The Highwayman
by anuddaone
Summary: Edward chooses a life of danger over one of gentrified comfort. Did Bella, the beautiful innkeepers daughter influence his decision? Can he bring the two sides of his life together or is he destined to lose everything? Inspired by 'The Highwayman'.
1. Poem

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The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes,

copyrighted 1906, 1913

The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,  
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,  
And the highwayman came riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;  
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.  
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!  
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--  
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--  
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,  
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,  
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--  
Bess, the landlord's daughter--  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked  
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked--  
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,  
But he loved the landlord's daughter--  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;  
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,  
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.  
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,  
Then look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,  
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand  
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,  
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight  
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),  
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.  
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,  
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,  
The redcoat troops came marching--  
Marching--marching--  
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,  
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.  
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;  
There was Death at every window,  
And Hell at one dark window,  
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!  
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!  
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,  
"Look for me by moonlight,  
Watch for me by moonlight,  
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!  
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!  
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,  
Till, on the stroke of midnight,  
Cold on the stroke of midnight,  
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;  
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.  
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,  
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,  
Blank and bare in the moonlight,  
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;  
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?  
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,  
The highwayman came riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!  
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!  
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,  
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--  
Her musket shattered the moonlight--  
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood  
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!  
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear  
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,  
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,  
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,  
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!  
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat  
When they shot him down in the highway,  
Down like a dog in the highway,  
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

_And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,  
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,  
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,  
The highwayman comes riding--  
Riding--riding--  
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door._

_Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,  
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,  
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there  
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--  
Bess, the landlord's daughter--  
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair._

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This poem is just our inspiration. We are not doing a direct rewrite of it.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, here it is! I know that you guys have been waiting patiently, and not so patiently, for it and I hope it doesn't disappoint. I have been really nervous about this, and have tried to research it but I am sure I will miss some stuff. The way we are writing this is that Acireamos, will write Edward's pov and I, Aly, Anuddaone, will write Bella's pov. Those will be the only two pov's we will write even though the other characters will be in the story.**

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**EPOV**

I heard the knock on the study door, and lifted my head from my books, calling for the person to enter. The door opened and Newton, my valet stepped in.

"Sire, there was another letter delivered today. It appears to be from a creditor of Master Anthony's."

"Just bring it to me." I was tired, exhausted from trying to settle all of my brother's debt. He gambled and whored unceasingly, and our family's funds were draining because of it. "Is the messenger still here, Newton?"

"No, Sire. He departed quickly after making his delivery. Is there anything I can bring you?"

"That will be all." I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. I would need to speak with Anthony again. He was the oldest son, but failed to act his role. It forced me, as the younger son, into the role of caretaker for him, a role which I resented greatly. My studies at University were very important to me, and I hoped to become a barrister one day. Anthony, as the oldest son, would take control of the family estate so I would need some sort profession to provide for myself and my family. My father had hoped I would join the military, perhaps become a great Captain or General.

But combat didn't interest me. I was enthralled with the workings of the law; our recent upheaval in government had grasped my attention and not let it go. The way that law allowed for only one side to be in the right, the way that good and evil were clearly called out, was very intriguing. I had always felt that there was too much consideration given to unnecessary details when a crime had been committed. The truth was evident, either the act had been done or it hadn't.

And in my brother's case, much had been done. I had already spoken with him countless times about the stress he was putting on the family and the way he was casting our family name in an unfavorable light. But he had refused to listen, claiming his right as the first son to do as he pleased without counsel from his younger brother. The fact that I had even approached him about the matter was insulting to him.

If only he could understand that he was insulting our family with his outrageous behavior. I sighed, before standing up from my chair. My body was stiff with disuse; the hours spent studying having melted by. Perhaps I would go riding this afternoon, before tea.

--

After riding for several hours, I returned my horse to the stable, leaving him with the groom to be curried. The exhilaration of galloping in the brisk spring air had cleared my mind. I had tried to think of how I would approach Anthony, but was still unsure. He had reacted badly to my previous attempts. But there had to be some way to reach him. This was not only for his reputation, but for our family's sake as well. If he could understand how much this hurt our father, perhaps then he would see reason.

As I entered the house, there was a hush among the servants. No one moved to help me with my jacket or to bring me a drink. By the time I reached my rooms, I had been almost completely ignored. My anger at the situation was brought to a head, when I saw that Newton was sitting in my own chair, his head down on the desk.

"Newton!" My voice was sharp and he jolted upright out of the seat.

"Sire, I apologize for my poor judgment. It will not happen again." He was trembling, and I wondered if it was simply from his mistake.

"Bring me my tea now; I am ravenous from my ride."

"Sire, there is news of your brother." His voice broke on the last words. He had grown up with Anthony and I, and was very attached to the both of us.

"Yes? What news?" I was impatient and tired of the melodrama that seemed to envelope Anthony's life.

"Master Anthony was in a duel this morning at dawn, Sire, and he was not victorious. He was shot in the neck, and died shortly after." Tears had filled his eyes, but he quickly straightened and bowed before backing out of the room.

I imagine he meant to leave me to my grief, but I was filled with inconsolable rage. Rage at the stupidity of my brother's actions, rage at his poor shot, rage at the fact that I was left to take care of everything yet again. As the oldest son now, I would have to return home and the chances of my finishing at university were very slim.

"Damn it!" I slammed my fist down on my desk, before sliding it across the surface, throwing all of my papers and books to the floor.

Pacing the floor, I moved to look out my window. I knew what I would have to do. Anthony's body would have to be returned home and while I was there I would try to convince my father that I should stay at University. He was unlikely to agree.

My own feelings about Anthony were mixed. He was my older brother and would have been the head of our family. He would have inherited the title from our father and carried the weight of it on his shoulders.

Now the weight would be on mine.

--

The carriage ride home was a long and dusty one. We had stopped once to water the horses before starting our journey again. The wagon carrying Anthony's body was following behind and the constant reminder of what I would face at home was wearing on me. We were approaching the village that sat just outside of our estate when I knocked on the roof of the carriage, calling up to the groom to stop at the Inn and have a drink before moving on.

My clothes felt like they were suffocating me, my breeches tight across my thighs. I wonder if my gait would be affected. The close fit of my coat was restricting my breathing, and I needed to collect myself. A moment of rest and ale would be just the thing, I hoped.

It was a respectable looking building, kept clean on the outside. I could only hope the same could be said of the interior. Moving from the relative darkness of the coach, to the bright sunlight blinded me momentarily. The brightness shocked me and I stepped into the inn quickly. I blinked, trying to regain my sight. Shaking my head, I sat down at an empty table.

After a moment of quiet, I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't turn, instead continued to face towards the fire.

"Sire, is there anything I can get for you?" Her voice was low and soft.

My head turned towards the girl, starting at her feet, working my way up her body. She was curvy, with her stays pulled tight around her waist. The swells under the cream colored cotton of her chemise were tempting as was her pale ivory skin. I dragged my gaze from her collarbone, up her smooth throat to a very luscious set of lips. They were full and a deep pink, as if she had been eating berries just before coming out into the main room.

I inhaled deeply, trying to collect myself.

She even smelled of berries and the blush that spread across her cheeks was enchanting. I must be making her nervous with my slow perusal, but I didn't stop myself. Her eyes were deep brown fringed with dark lashes, lashes that were the same color as her thick hair. I couldn't tells it's length as it was pulled back in a intricate knot at the nape of her neck and covered in a cap, but my fingers longed to pull it free, running through to the ends.

My groan of want pulled me out of my stupor. This was some common serving girl, not someone I should concern myself with. And certainly not to the degree that I was. I guessed though that she would be the type that would be opposed to a tryst, as she seemed very innocent and pure. Her flush while I was just looking at her indicated her inexperience with men.

I had hardly noticed my own breathing pick up, but the tightness in my trousers couldn't be ignored. Where my breeches had been uncomfortable before, they were quickly becoming painful now. The effect this girl had on me was startling. Never before had I felt this rush, this desire for someone. I coughed, trying to cover up my reaction.

There were probably plenty of girls that would be willing to entertain me while I was here. No need to worry about this one, she would be forgotten quickly.

"An ale."

I met her eyes as I informed her of my need, and her eyes widened, shocked, not dropping her gaze in deference as she should have. I smirked at her insolence, before turning away again.

"Oh. I beg your pardon, sir." She hesitated before walking away, and I could hear her sigh as she turned.

I felt her skirts brush my leg, when she moved towards the kitchen. Her scent wrapped around me, clouding my head again. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to remember why I was here, where I was headed.

After a few moments she was back, setting my ale in front of me before wordlessly turning away. I felt the urge to reach out and grab her wrist, forcing her to stay but I didn't. This rush of attraction would fade, and there was no need to have a scandal in town. Anthony had been the son that created scandal, not me.

Taking a long drink from the glass, I looked around the room. It was quaint and orderly, with smooth stone walls and battered wood floors. It was much cleaner than the usual inn, with obvious care being taken to keep it that way. I wondered if it was the serving girl that put forth such effort or if there was a woman of the house. Perhaps she is the woman of the house. She is old enough to have been married off.

But the idea that she was married to some man old enough to be her father bothered me. The fact that she could be warming the bed of this as yet unnamed man was making my chest tight with anger. Such a beauty as that, wasted on an aged husband, ridiculous.

I finished my glass, pushing it away from me before I stood. It was time to go home, time to face my father.

I left several coins on the worn table top as payment and made my way towards the door. Glancing behind me I saw the girl standing next to an older man, his arm around her shoulders, his head leaning down. A waste.

Pushing open the door, I made my way to the carriage.

--

The ride home passed slowly, despite the fact that my family home wasn't far from the town. I tried to tell myself that it was the scene ahead of me that I was dreading, but I knew that wasn't it.

Upon arriving, I jumped down from my seat, eager to put this behind me. I strode to the door, leaving the servants to deal with my baggage and Anthony's remains. Esme met me at the door. She was the head maid, having moved up from nanny after Anthony and I came of age. Her sad countenance was almost more than I could handle. After our mother had passed, she had been our only real caretaker. Our father had been too busy and then later when he married Victoria, she was not interested in us, not having wanted children at all. Esme was the closest thing to a mother either of us had known and it broke my heart to see her in such pain.

"Welcome home, Edward." Her shining eyes were kind, too kind for this household.

I reached for her, grasping her hand in mine. It was an improper gesture towards a servant, but it didn't matter to me at that moment. For all the pain his death had caused me, I knew hers was just as great. Perhaps even more so; as I hadn't allowed her to hear of his recent more uncivilized behavior so that her image of him wouldn't become as tarnished as mine had.

She wiped at her tears, looking around worriedly. We both knew if Victoria saw this exchange she would mention it to my father insisting he speak to Esme again. For some reason, Victoria felt threatened by Esme and took every opportunity to make her life difficult. I never understood why my father allowed it. In fact, when I was younger it used to be one of my main points of argument with him. I would argue on Esme's behalf, railing against the injustice Victoria would heap upon her.

My father would only say that he would deal with her, but whether he meant Esme or Victoria I did not know.

We walked into the house, where we were met by the rest of the staff. I advised them of where to put everything for now. My father would have the final decision on where we would put my brother. The sadness that permeated the air was stifling and I yearned to leave, to just get on a horse and ride. But that would have to wait.

My father's library was a heavily paneled room, dark and masculine. As I knocked and then entered, I noticed how aged my father was looking. I hadn't been home in some time so I had missed this deterioration. Surely he would have sent me a message if he was ill?

"Edward. You've made it. I hope your travel was not uncomfortable?" He sounded weaker as well, sadness clouding his voice.

"My ride was uneventful at least and we made good time. I trust you received my message?"

He sighed and nodded; his head down. "Yes, we received the news about Anthony. It pains me greatly that my son has passed and in such a fashion. I had great hopes for him."

"I wish that I had been able to save him from such a fate. My plan had been to meet with him again that day; I had hoped to pull him free of those vices." The words broke, guilt washing over me.

"It wasn't your responsibility, son. He should have known, but it is too late now. Too late indeed." He beckoned me to the sofa where he was sitting. "But it's you now that will hold the title when I leave this world."

"You speak of your passing as if it is imminent. That is surely not the case?"

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Son, you can see that I am not well. Whether this is a passing illness or if it will be that which brings me to my end, I do not know. But you must be prepared to run the estate and care for our family name if it is."

Panic burned through my veins. I had been expecting a request to return home, even though I wanted to continue my studies. But faced with my father in such poor health, I knew I couldn't bring myself to ask for leave to finish university. There was no choice, between Anthony's death and my fathers current physical shape, I would have to stay here and most likely marry soon, ensuring the continuation of the Cullen name and our title.

My shoulders slumped forward, the weight of my newfound responsibility pressing on me. Standing, ready to escape if only temporarily, I nodded to my father before speaking.

"I believe I will head to the stables, you mentioned a new mare in your last letter and I want to see her for myself."

"Yes, she is a beauty. Your stepmother named her Bellissima, she's taken to emulating the Italians now." He had a wry smile on his face when he spoke of her, indicating how seriously he took her aspiration to be more Continental.

I laughed; amused at the condescending way he spoke about Victoria. She was always trying to be more than she truly was, having been the daughter of a local merchant when she married my father, bringing with her a large dowry while gaining a title. Her move up in the world may have been the reason behind her cruel treatment of the servants in the house and of the townspeople. Or it may be that she is just a foul person, with no love for anyone but herself. I believed it was the latter.

Shaking my head free of thoughts of that woman, I strode purposefully to the stables. I would see this new horse, the latest addition, and then go for a ride to relax.

As I walked though, I found myself thinking about the serving girl in the inn; her face imprinted on my mind and wondered when I would see her next. It was ridiculous, that I would be infatuated with a girl so beneath me. I tried to focus on something else, but there wasn't anything taking her place.

I thought of the days ahead, Anthony's funeral would be soon. The ceremony would be held in the church, a church my family had built in town many years ago. Most of the townsfolk would be there to pays their respects to my family and I couldn't help but hope she would be among them.

**BPOV**

"Isabella, will you please bring me my spectacles. I believe they are on the bar," my father called just as I was retreating to my room to ready myself for bed. We did not have many guest and they had all turned in for the evening.

"I'll be right there, Father."

I made my way carefully to the main room of my father's inn, the Lion and the Lamb, holding a sputtering candle. The small amount of light helped me to stay upright, avoiding the loose boards in the wooden floor. I did not want to trip and fall as I was known to do so often. Making it without incident, I found the requested item and checked again that the fire was safely out for the evening and the door was secure.

I knocked quietly on my father's study door and he beckoned me to enter. I handed him his glasses and turned to leave him to his business, wishing to have some time to myself before going to sleep.

"Bella, dear, please sit for a moment," he requested. I did as I was told, knowing what was to come.

My father was insistent that I find a husband soon. I was old enough of course, but I was content to stay with him, I did not feel it was necessary for me to marry. He needed someone to care for him and to help with the work here. When he passed on, I could simply go to work as a governess or with the church possibly. There weren't many options available to me, because of my sex, but I was determined to not be forced into a loveless marriage. My parents had loved each other; when my mother had died my father was bereft.

It was actually the only reason he continued to humor me in my ideas about staying here with him. I was his only child, and if he had a son or son-in-law, they would inherit the inn but I was not able to. He had been not so subtly suggesting different local men for the last several years, but I hadn't met anyone that I felt anything for. And I wanted to marry someone that I could love; a real passionate love like in Romeo and Juliet, by the playwright Shakespeare. If only I could convince him of this. Besides, it was not as if I had any real suitors to speak of.

"I know that we have talked about this at length but I need to know that you are taking me seriously. We need to find a husband to care of you. It is your future we speak of and this would ensure your happiness." He patted my knee, concern in his eyes.

I smiled and batted my eyelashes at him. "Father, are you so eager to get rid of me?" I knew that this was not the case, but I used any argument I could.

"You know that is not my intention," he furrowed his brow, "I want you to be provided for. I want to be sure of this, for my own peace of mind. You are just too mulish for your own good and I do not wish to choose for you, but I will if it is necessary. Have you given any thought to Jac-"

"Father, please. I am tired and wish to go to bed, if you would not mind?" My voice was lighter than my heart just then, as I had told him time and time again that Jacob would never be more than a friend to me. He knew I meant no disrespect but when he spoke about choosing whom I should marry I had a hard time staying quiet.

Knowing it was no use to argue he waved me off, reminding me that we would talk more about this soon. I said good night and quickly made my way from the room.

Getting ready for bed, I took off my linen cap and began brushing out my hair, before plaiting it in a loose braid that reached to my waist. I thought about my father's desire that I find a husband. I understood that he was getting older and only wanted me to be taken care of, but I just did not want to be wed as of yet. I felt like I was needed here still.

My mother had died in childbirth, as so many mothers do, when I was just turned 6. I had been so excited about the thought of a little brother or sister and to lose both mother and baby at the same time was hard on both of us. It wasn't uncommon but that didn't make it any easier to grieve. So, I was my father's caretaker and he needed me more than another man would. I helped him in the inn and made sure that there was food on the table for him. If I were to leave who would do those things? He was not thinking of himself now.

Also, I had other work that I was involved in that would be impossible if I were to have the responsibilities of a wife. I helped to provide for the poorest of the townspeople in anyway that I was able to. There were few others who were willing to take the time or the effort to provide for them if I did not. We were not rich, but I used what I could in order to make their lives a bit easier.

More than I could say for some of the wealthier ladies and gentleman in this town.

As I thought of the townspeople that I saw in the inn daily, I wondered why they could not see the needs of the others in the town.

Knowing that it was no use to think on this too much, my thoughts went to the stranger that had been in the inn that day. A gentleman, no doubt, wealthy and regal, but there was something else about him. Yes, his gaze lingered longer than necessary on me, but when his eyes met mine, I could not look away as custom dictates; there was just so much in that beautiful green stare. He seemed so sad, angry, and lost; I had never seen such emotion in one look. And in someone so young. It took me by surprise.

I had offended him, he let me know with a mocking crooked grin, and I quickly remembered who I was and brought him what he asked for, leaving the man to his torment.

Oddly, for the rest of the day, I continued to picture the gentleman and his sorrowful face. I could not fathom the reasoning. He was handsome, I could not deny that, but it was not his looks that haunted me, just his eyes. I felt the need to help him. I wanted to sooth away his sorrows. It seemed that such a beautiful face should not be marred by such anguish.

But I am a sensible girl, and he would not need the likes of me to help him, it was silly that I would even consider such a thing. He was only a stranger and my father always told me that I should not attempt to solve everyone's problems.

Even if I could, there were people in this town that needed my help much more than this man either way.

One last check that my father was settled for the night found him still in his office pouring himself a cup of tea. When he heard me at the door he offered me some tea and I accepted, knowing that we could now talk about other items rather than his desire for me to marry.

"So, Bella, hear anything interesting today?" He liked to hear stories about our patrons. He said he disapproved of scandalous chatter, but I think otherwise. And being just a serving girl, no one paid any mind if I overheard their talk, so I usually had plenty to share.

"Ah, nothing too exciting today, just the regulars." I realized now that after the stranger and his remarkable eyes, I had little recollection of the rest of my day, but it had not been a terribly busy day at the inn either. "How about you? Did you hear anything new about our fine neighbors?"

He chuckled lightly, "Some of the usual. Yorkie getting away from his wife, muttering things about her giving him no peace, and Miss Mallory fawning over young Crowley…"

I cringed. Tyler Crowley was someone I did not care for. He had a bad habit of not keeping his hands to himself. My father knew this though and made sure that I did not have to serve him when he was in, thankfully. He had no honorable intentions towards any woman, myself included.

"Maybe, if we are lucky, they will be wed soon and perhaps his visits will become less frequent," my father continued.

I smiled at his hopefulness, though with a man like that, I was not sure that marriage would stop him.

"Oh, I did hear some rather sad news from the servants at the Cullen estate. The youngest son was escorting his deceased brother's body from the city. Seems the eldest was killed in some sort of accident, I did not hear any specifics. Viscount Cullen must be beside himself, to lose a child…" he shook his head solemnly, knowing personally the pain he must feel.

My mind went to my sad stranger. The Cullen family was one the titled family that lived in the area. I thought of the patriarch of the family; dashing, youthful, his face beautifully poignant. His wife, Victoria, was striking, with fire red hair and a scowl on her lips each time I saw her. She did not seem to belong here, but I also knew that she was not the mother of the Cullen boys. Could my stranger have been the youngest Cullen? He just may have been. He was as handsome, or more so, than the father. His expressive eyes mirrored the Viscount's, though not in color.

Could be. And it would explain the pain that I saw. Yes, it most definitely could be. Though what it mattered, I wasn't sure.

My father had continued on about some other folks in the town, thought I had not heard much of what he said, I am sure it was really nothing new. We had the talks almost every evening. "…I believe he was trying to impress the young woman across the room, though she never looked his way," my father finished a story about another young man that visited today.

"When will men learn that being belligerent is not attractive?" I smiled at him. "I am going to go to bed now and you should get some rest as well, Father, it was a long day."

"You are aware, Isabella, that I am the parent and you are my child, I can take care of myself," he teased with a wink.

I kept a stern look on my face, "Yes, but if it were not for me, you would be weary and irritable all of the time, because you would get no rest or food. Now off to bed, young man." I pointed towards the door.

Laughing, he waved me off. Before I could get out of the room though, he stopped me.

"Oh, and Bella, Mr. Black has fallen ill and Jacob is managing the farm alone. Perhaps you would bring him a meal tomorrow in case he does not have time to get one for himself. With both of his sisters married and out of their father's house, he is left to his own devices."

I knew the intention of his request, but I also did not mind bringing my friend some supper. I knew he had a lot of responsibility with his father being sick. "Of course, I will. Did you want me to pass along any message to Billy?" He shook his head quickly; I smiled and left the room not wanting to encourage any more talk of marriage and husbands.

Once I was back in my room, I began undressing, taking off my robe, stomacher and petticoats. I took a deep breath when I loosened my stays, glad to be free of the restriction. I put them away in my wardrobe, standing in my chemise, cold without all of my layers.

Putting out my candle, I found my way to my bed, not realizing how tired I really was until I laid my head down. Normally, right before drifting to sleep I would think of the chores for the next morning or new ways that I could be of aid to the town, but this night I was only reflecting on the stranger, or the Cullen boy, if that is who he was. Even with his identity almost certain my mind was not willing to forget him. Reminding myself once more that there was nothing that he needed or wanted from me, I was finally able to fall into a very deep sleep.

* * *

**AC: So, here it is! It's taking a lot longer than I thought it would...**

AN: eh, hopefully they will forgive us...

**AC: We are trying to be accurate but historians we aren't so it's a lot of research.  
**  
AN: And looking at pics of Rob in tight breeches!

**AC: Exactly, we have to be inspired.  
**  
AN: Good thing he is VERY inspiring.

**AC: Too true. Gah...is that drool on my keyboard?**

AN: Well, we won't be updating as often as we did with LATS, but that hopefully we can keep the quality up.

**AC: We'll see soon what they think so far…that is, if the review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: So sorry it has taken us this long to update! We are trying to make more time for writing, and we want this to be good so we are being cautious. I do want to remind everyone, we are not historians and there will, no doubt, be lots of mistakes. But we are trying so keep that in mind!**

**I, Acireamos, would like to thank my grammar-angel, Chewie, for all her help. My degree in smut literature focused mainly on the secksin' and not so much on the whole "where do verbs and commas go?" part of writing. All of her suggestions for Edward's pov were genius and only served to make it tighter…and everyone loves tighter.**

**Oh, and we don't own Highwaymen, Twilight, Volvo's or Edward. But we would like to. Really.**

* * *

**BELLA**

Up before the sun as always, I quickly made my way around our small living area using a single candle as to not wake my father. I dressed and placed my father's clothing out so that he could easily find it when he woke. Once done, I made my way to the inn's kitchen.

Starting the kitchen fires, and opening the top of the stable door to let in the morning air, I began breakfast for my father and the inn's guests, as well as readying bread and a stew to take to the Black's farm. I loved working in the quiet on these mornings, having a chance to be left to my thoughts.

As I was making my way back from my father's study where I had left his breakfast I heard a soft knock on the kitchen door. I looked up, slightly startled from the unexpected noise, and saw my friend Esme waving.

Strange, it was early for a visit.

"Esme?" I took in her sad face and red eyes as I opened the bottom part of the door so she could come in; realizing too late that I already knew what was wrong. I quickly embraced her before she began explain, I knew that it would be cruel to allow it unnecessarily.

The Cullen family was Esme's family, and the Viscount had lost a son recently. Esme had been the nanny to both of the Cullen boys and since their mother had passed away while they were extremely young, Esme was the only mother they had, and she treated them as if they were her own.

Esme was with the family while the first Countess was alive and had told me once how gentle and loving she was. The current Countess was the opposite, harsh and cold. She made it difficult for Esme because she did not like reminders of the first wife. But Esme stayed on with the family for the boys, knowing that they would need her since they too were reminders of their mother that Victoria was not fond of. Esme was a selfless, beautiful person.

"Oh, dear Bella, it is awful. He was so young. He was so foolish! I thought I had taught him better," she said as I took her hand leading her to the small table in the middle of the kitchen. She looked as though she might faint at any moment.

"Let me get you a drink, Esme," I wanted to help but did not know what to do, so this was the least I could do at the moment.

Putting a mug of tea in front of her I sat again, grasping her hand, still unsure what I could say, her loss was no different, no less, than the father's, she had served as their surrogate mother for most of their lives.

With a sigh, Esme smiled sadly, "I had come to let you know that with the house being in mourning and there being so much to prepare the home for the funeral, I would not be able to visit the children at the church for a few days and was wondering if you might have the time."

"Of course I can do that. I will just make a bit more food this morning to take with me. That is not a problem at all." Esme was generous with her time since both of her charges had left the family home. She and I would take turns visiting the small orphanage at the church. While the church did its best with their limited resources, there was often very little to eat and never anyone that had time to spend with these children so we made sure to give them some of both.

"The children will miss you, they love you so much, but Esme, will you be working? Is the Viscount not allowing you to mourn your loss as well?"

Her chuckle was bitter. "Oh, Car- the Lord had given me leave, but the _Lady _would not hear of it. Her sister's family is here for the funeral and it would not do for the head maid to skimp on her duties, '_what would her family think?_'" her voice twisted into a high pitch screech imitating with precision the Countess's voice.

"Evil woman," I murmured.

She sniffled, "Yes, but I guess it is fine, work will keep my mind busy and not allow me to think about my precious Anthony."

After sitting there quietly for a short time, me gripping her hand still, Esme sighed. I looked up at her and she was smiling. "So Bella, you said you would make _more_ food. Who else were you planning on visiting today?"

She knew the answer, but I told her anyway, readying myself for the inevitable. "I was taking dinner to the Black's and also Alice, I haven't heard from her in a while." I hoped the mention of Alice would turn her attention. No such luck.

"Oh, it is so nice of you to take care of Jacob like that, I am sure that he appreciates it. And I am sure he would love to return the favor," a sly smile on her face.

I huffed. "Honestly Esme, you sound like my father. Can no one accept that Jacob is my friend, nothing more? I do not want argue with you about getting married too," I attempted to sound light, teasing, but hoped she understood I was serious.

Shaking her head like she thought I was probably a lost cause, she looked as though she was going to let it go. "Bella, you talk about wanting to make others happy all of the time, would it be so bad to be happy yourself?"

Laughing I looked at her dubiously, "Ha, from the woman who lives in a home with a vile woman who treats her like dirt when she could easily find work somewhere more hospitable at any moment. And, yes, I know you have been offered positions elsewhere, Esme." She made a noise of protest and I cut her off. "Please don't use the boys as your excuse because they have been grown for sometime now."

"Ah Bella, that mouth of yours," she shook her head.

She looked sad again and I felt bad for my comments. "I'm sorry Esme, I didn't mean anything by it; it is just that I am not ready to be married. Besides, I am needed here."

As if to prove my point my father appeared in the door way, absently fastening his vest with his tie around his neck. "Bella, could you help me with this tie? My fingers are not working this morning." he looked up and flushed when he noticed Esme at the table with me.

"Yes, he can take care of himself…" I muttered as I made my way across the room to help him finish dressing.

"Hello Esme dear," he said over my head as I finished. "I heard the tragic news from your house, my deepest sympathy to you and the Viscount's family."

They exchanged some small pleasantries and then my father returned to his study to have breakfast and ready himself for the day. I returned to cooking while carrying on with Esme about unimportant things, staying far away from our previous conversation.

After a short while Esme looked out the door noticing the daylight was now visible. "I should go, I have my own breakfast I must tend to," she seemed to be beaming as she said this.

"But Esme, I thought that I had heard that there was a new cook at the house?"

She nodded, "Yes, there is, but she does not know what my Edward likes for breakfast like I do, I have not been able to cook for him for sometime now, I want to do it while I have a chance before he returns to London. If he returns I guess…"

She seemed to drift off into thought for a moment but soon excused herself with a quick hug and a promise to let me know when she could resume her morning visits to the children.

Edward, my stranger. I had pushed him out of my thoughts for a moment but when she mentioned him it seemed like I had just looked into his eyes again. As I finished my cooking I couldn't help but wonder what kind of weight was on his shoulders with his new position as the eldest son of the Viscount. His status instantly changed with his brother's death and now it was his job to take care of his family. I found myself wondering if he was now pressured to be married to produce a male to carry on his family name, just as I was. It was silly to think of things like this, but what else is one suppose to think of as she is alone in a kitchen, really?

The morning went by quickly and soon I was wrapping up bread and other foods to take to the orphanage and the Blacks. I made sure the inn was not too busy before telling my father goodbye and heading out to my first stop.

The children of the orphanage were happy to see me and the woman that cared for them was ready for the break as well. As always I took them out on a walk so that they could run and play, if only for a short time. After a few trips up and down the road, I was trying to maintain some order but mostly finding myself chasing after them, pleading for them to slow so that I could catch up. They never strayed too far and when I would catch up I would take my turns to tickle them or swing them through the air, loving the sounds of their laughter. Reluctantly I left them after some time, promising another visit very soon.

The walk to Billy Black's sheep farm was not too long, but I took my time, enjoying the cool air and the hints of sun, daydreaming about silly things. Before I realized I had arrived at the gate.

Slipping in, making sure the latch was securely fastened I made my way to the door, knocking lightly before the expected barking flooded from the house and the barn. I braced myself as the door opened too quickly and a great sand colored dog jumped up on me, tail wagging and nearly knocking me to the ground. I quietly thanked goodness that I had secured all of the food, all too used to these greetings.

"Down Seth!" Jacob boomed and the pup calmed and walked silently back into the house. Jacob moved aside so that I could come into the house and put down my load. Before I even had time to think Jacob picked me up in a crushing hug, my feet dangling. I was used to this too.

I laughed and returned the hug. "Hello, Jake, it is nice to see you too. Now, could you put me down please?"

Bringing me back to the ground gingerly, he pulled back and beamed at me, "Bella! It is great to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Ah, I heard your father was ill and I knew you would be busy keeping up with your work so I brought you some food so that you would not starve. With the girls gone and your father resting, I knew you would be hungry."

Shaking his head, he asked, "Bella, when do you find the time?"

I did not reply but started unwrapping the items I had brought so that he could have lunch. "So, how is your father? Feeling better I hope."

"Sure, he is doing alright. I think it will pass, but he isn't able to tend the sheep any longer, that job is all mine. Mine and the pack's."

A small giggle escaped my mouth. Jacob's _pack_ was his ragtag group of dogs. There were eight, well maybe nine now, I had never met my enthusiastic greeter before. Jacob said that he found dogs to be more companionable than most people and better help on a sheep farm as well. I suspected that he also like to be the leader.

Jacob was a good man. He worked on his farm and even made time occasionally to help me with some of my charities in town. We had been friends for some time, due to of our fathers' friendship and I was grateful for his presence in my life –

Though things were becoming quite complicated now.

Everyone seemed to think that we should marry. Unfortunately, everyone included Jacob. Though he had never actually asked, I was afraid it was only a matter of time. Where conversation and friendliness had come easy at one time now I found it to be uncomfortable and awkward at times, dodging his attempts at courting.

But he was still my friend, so the least I could do was bring him a meal to help him make it through his long days.

"So Bella, what have you been up to today? No doubt keeping yourself busy," he questioned, bringing me from my thoughts.

Deciding to sit with him while he ate, I put the plate of food in front of him. "Yes, I made breakfast for the inn and then I was with the children from the church until I came here to see you. Nothing too taxing."

I pulled a small piece of meat from the package on the table and fed it to Seth who had snuck back into the kitchen to lie under the table. "New dog?" I asked Jacob as the mutt gained courage and came to sit beside me.

Digging into the food like he had not eaten in days, he nodded. I would have been offended by his lack of manners had I not known him so well.

"Yeah, Seth is just a pup so I keep him inside until I am sure the others will not hurt him. They can be a little territorial sometimes so I didn't want to chance it." He took another heaping bite, chewing quickly before he spoke again. "I thought your friend Esme spent time with the children during the week? Has she stopped coming?" he asked.

"Oh, no! Have you not heard? The Viscount Cullen has lost his eldest son, Anthony. It was something scandalous, I believe a duel? I am not sure; you know how the gossip is. So, Esme is busy preparing for the funeral."

"Nothing surprising there," Jake sneered. "Those Cullen boys have never been much to speak of. Anthony just got what I am sure he deserved. I hear the younger one is not much better."

"Jacob Black! You should not speak ill of the dead. That is very disrespectful of his family. And you don't know them so you should not spread nasty rumors!" I was holding back angry tears; he had no right to speak of my friend's family in such a manner. Esme was the most wonderful person I knew and I could not believe that she had not raised men of worth and I would not hear otherwise.

Truth be told, I did not want to hear him speak poorly of Edward either. And not just because of Esme. I wanted to believe that he was a good man, not disreputable like so many of the others in his station. Though I was not sure why it really mattered, but it did.

Trying to calm myself I looked back at Jacob, his eyes were wide and his mouth agape. I do not think that I had ever spoken that forcefully to him or anyone for that matter. I apologized, "But Jacob, you know that Esme worked as the nanny for the Viscount and your accusations of their behavior reflects on her." I thought that sounded like enough of an excuse for my outburst, he knew Esme was as important to me as anyone.

"Sure, sure, sorry," he held up his hands. "I mean no disrespect; it is just how it is Bella. But, anyway, guess we will be attending the funeral. I will meet you and your father at the inn and we can go together," he looked at me hopefully.

Still mad at him because he did not take what he said back I huffed, but nodded. "Yes, that will be fine. But now I have one more stop on my way home and must take leave now so that I can make it back before dinner. Take care of yourself and your father Jake; you know Charlie and I are always there for you if you need anything."

Jacob rose from his chair and walked beside me to the door, Seth was close on my other side. "I think he likes you," Jacob laughed and shooed the dog away. He gave me his warmest smile, "We all love when you visit Bella, wish we could have you around more often. I am always happy when you to stop by. It makes my day."

I couldn't stop the blush from his sincere words, even though I knew there was more behind them than friendliness. "Thanks Jake, I will see you soon."

I walked a little more quickly away from Jacob's, eager to put some space between me and my friend. Things were getting too complicated and I feared I would soon have to face feelings and proposals I was definitely not ready for.

Maybe Alice would have some suggestions of how I could get out of this.

--

**Edward**

The next few days were filled with planning and preparation for Anthony's funeral. It was to be a grandiose affair, with family and friends coming from as far as Yorkshire. My disgust for her only grew as I watched; she had never once shown any love or affection for Anthony or me but for her to disrespect his death like this, planning his funeral like it was some kind of ball, made me sick.

I had spent an afternoon walking the grounds with Esme, talking about Anthony and me as children. She was bereft without him, the circumstances of his death just adding to her sorrow. After our mother had died, she had stepped in and taken us under her wing. Our father was distant, as most are, and having Esme there made up for his reticence. We never lacked for attention or care, as she attended to our upbringing and education. She was more important to me than even my father, and seeing her so upset was very painful. I hadn't truly faced my own grief over losing Anthony, but I pushed it aside to be there for her.

"Edward, I know your brother wasn't the most honorable of men, but I thought of him as my own. It may be presumptuous of me to say that but I feel I can talk to you like this, and not fear repercussions." She leaned on my arm, patting it absently.

"Never fear me. You are the closest thing I have ever had to a mother, Esme. If it weren't for you I don't know what kind of man I would be today." I peered at her out of the corner of my eye, "And what do you know about Anthony? Who did you speak with? If it was Victoria, I am going to have that woman…"

She cut me off, preventing me from saying something really damaging.

"Your father and I have spoken about Anthony's behavior recently. I know that he had not been acting as his station required. He was such a sweet child, I don't know where I went wrong with him? And you, you are such a good boy."

I flushed; her referral to me as a boy was improper as well as embarrassing. And I wondered at her familiarity with my father. She had been with the family for as long as I could remember, even before my mother had died, and it seemed like when I got older I could sense that all was not what it seemed between them.

"Father should have told you no such thing. I hate that news of his escapades reached your ears. Father knowing is bad enough, but for you to know? Unacceptable." I stomped my foot into the ground, angry but looking more like a petulant child than anything else.

She smiled, patting my cheek, "Dear boy. Your father didn't tell me the specifics but he would give me an idea of your brother's doings. He would never be so improper as to divulge something risqué to me. I am but a lowly maid." The dry chuckle that rolled out of her mouth sounded mirthless.

"Esme, you may be a maid, but you are anything but lowly." I hugged her quickly, releasing her before we reached the house.

"You are too kind to me, Edward. I am so glad to have you though. My days are brighter now, knowing you will be close. Your father mentioned you would be staying, and not returning to university after the funeral. It's time for you to start looking for a suitable…"

"If you are going to say wife, I beg you to stop speaking. I have heard enough talk about my search for a suitable wife to last me a century. I am not ready to find her, and won't be for quite some time."

"Her? Did you have someone in mind? You smiled when you said her, so I can only guess that you have someone you were thinking of."

"No, I don't. And please drop it. Now, if you want to avoid Victoria and her wrath, you will scoot in that side door while I get their attention allowing your escape. For which you should be grateful" I smirked at her and she blushed quickly before pulling away to go the kitchen.

As we rounded the corner, headed for the terrace that extended the length of the house I could see Victoria sitting with guests and I groaned. Her sister and brother in law were here, which meant that Katherine was here as well. Their daughter was my age, and we were often thrown together while the parents visited. She was pretty in a cold way and was a calculating as her mother and aunt.

Esme turned towards the side door, attempting to make it in before being noticed by Victoria, who would be sure to humiliate her in front of her family. I strode towards them, calling out to get their attention focused on me, hopefully allowing Esme her escape.

"Peter, Charlotte, how good to see you. Your travel uneventful, I hope?"

"It's funny that you asked, Edward. We were just discussing what happened when you appeared. Their carriage was help up by a…"

"Victoria, please. We can talk about this later." Peter turned to face me. "Edward, it's good to see you. I am sorry to have heard about your brother. I know how close you were."

Peter was a good man; it had always surprised me that he had married Charlotte. But my father had been taken in by the beautiful exterior as well. I couldn't blame him for being fooled by it.

"Thank you for your kindness. We are all saddened by the events that led to his death, and I appreciate you having made the trip out of respect for our family." I clapped my hand on his shoulder and nodded at his wife. "If you will excuse me, I was planning on riding this afternoon. Victoria and my father have recently acquired a few new horses and I haven't been able to take any out for a ride yet."

"Of course. We will see you at dinner. You may see Katherine, she was just here asking about you."

I knew she would look for me. I just hoped I could make it out of the stable before she found me.

--

I had one of the grooms saddle up the new mare, Bellissima, and rode out of the stable. I wanted to ride aimlessly, with no goal in mind. However I soon found myself headed towards town. The image of the dark haired serving girl bubbled up in my mind. Her face seemed to be in my thoughts almost everyday, but I was sure it was a simple distraction. I would rather think about her than watch the horror that was the planning of my brother's funeral.

I rode along the main street through the village which went right past the inn. Deciding against stopping, I continued my ride. If I stopped and she wasn't there, I could be drawn into a conversation with some random townsperson and have to hear about their deep sympathy for my family. This was something I wanted to avoid.

The sound of children's footsteps echoed down the street to me and I could see the source of the noise running down the street towards the church. Following them was she, the girl, her cheeks flushed from chasing the gaggle of boys and girls. Her hair was mussed from the run and she was breathing heavily. I inhaled sharply through my nose at the sight of her. She called to the group to stop, to wait for her and they obeyed. Some even turned back to run to her, clinging to her skirts. Her sincere smile plainly revealed her affection for them.

I could hear them calling her name, but I could quite make it out. Did they say Bella? I edged closer, straining to hear them. After noticing a few stares that I was receiving for being stopped in the middle of the roadway, I urged the horse onward, leaving the girl and her flock behind me.

It was time for me to head back. Dinner would be served soon, and I knew that with Victoria's family here it would be an elaborate meal. She would have nothing but the best for them, if only to demonstrate her higher status in the social strata. The ride home would be a long one, as I was dreading my destination.

--

After leaving the horse with one of the stable boys, I brushed off my breeches and turned to walk up to the house. I felt the brush of skirts against the back of my legs as cool hands covered my eyes.

"Guess who?" The voice taunted me.

I knew who it was as Katherine and I had become quite familiar with each other. And I wasn't really in the mood to play.

"Who." My voice was flat in response.

"Someone who missed you very much."

Her hands slid away from my eyes, but I kept them shut tight while her hands made their way down my chest to the waistband of my trousers. She teasingly dipped her fingers under the fabric and my body reacted traitorously. Her small breasts were pushed against my back and she was breathing very hard.

I groaned when her fingers reached inside and grasped my rapidly hardening length. Before anything else could happen, she pulled us into the closest empty stall, one that had recently been mucked out, and my back was pressed up against the rough stone wall. She dropped to her knees, licking her lips in anticipation. My hands found their way into her hair, tugging her closer to me while she freed my cock from its confines.

When I glanced down at her, it occurred to me that there was someone else I would rather see like this, on her knees before me. The image of the serving girl, breathing hard, flushed from her run, flashed through my head and my lids slid closed reveling in the picture before me. Her hot breath flowed over me, causing me to twitch and harden even more, before her soft pouty lips brushed a lingering kiss down my length.

I moaned, as I slid into her sweet mouth, dreaming of wrapping my hands in her luscious mahogany hair, guiding her into a rhythm. The sweet smell of fresh cut hay and of berries permeated the air, filling my nose, my head. I could hear the small noises she would make, hear the rasp of air pulling in and out of her nostrils. Her strong hands worked the flesh her mouth couldn't hold, squeezing, sliding.

I said her name in my head, Bella, as I imagined her here with me, my tongue curling around the syllables. God, why could I not get her out of my head?

The sensations, the image of her, became too much and my body tightened before releasing, her mouth greedily taking all I had to give. My head lolled on my shoulders for a moment before I looked down at her, still on her knees. When my gaze met Katherine's and the look in her cool grey eyes was one of triumph, I shuddered, my fantasy fading quickly. Stepping around her, I fastened myself back up and walked towards the stable door. I heard her unhappy sigh but didn't turn around.

"Edward?"

Her voice was quiet as the distance between us increased yet I couldn't bring myself to turn around.

"I'll see you at dinner, Katherine." I threw over my shoulder as I quickly walked away.

I was sure she would make me pay for that.

--

As I thought, dinner was very elaborate with an overabundance of food, flowers, drink, provided. Victoria enjoyed displaying the finery that had been in our family for generations, our silver and gold platters and cups. It was too much for just a family dinner but who could convince Victoria of that?

I reached the bottom of the stairs after bathing and changing from my riding clothes only to see Katherine sitting alone, waiting for me.

Etiquette would have to be followed, with her parents so close but she was an unpredictable girl and I worried about what she may do or say. It would do me good to appease any anger she was holding from this afternoon.

"Katherine. You look lovely this evening." I held my arm out to her, for her to place her hand on.

"Thank you, Edward. You look well yourself. Must have been that ride you had this afternoon, to make you look so hale. Too bad you didn't have time for another ride, it would have been…"

My hiss cut her off and she looked shocked before regaining her composure.

"Of course, with your new duties you will most likely have less time to ride," She absentmindedly pet my arm, "now that you are heir and responsible for your dwindling family fortune." I pulled away at her last comment.

"Excuse me? And what business is it of yours, the state of my family's fortune?" I kept my voice low, so that no one else could hear us.

"Oh, I know Victoria and her penchant for new and extravagant things. I have heard my parents talk about her and the difficulty your father is having reining in her spending. She is causing him a lot of distress. I am surprised as heir you weren't apprised of the situation." Her voice was light, as if she were talking about her newest dress, or a ball she planned on attending.

Of course my father wouldn't tell me that his wife was burning through my inheritance. He knew of my dislike for her, and that I would not stand by idly as she continued. What could I do though? She was his wife, not mine, and if he would not control her there were few options for me.

I looked up to see Katherine smiling in amusement at me, and I shook my head and took a deep breath.

Offering my arm back to her, I nodded. "Let's go sit and see what my illustrious stepmother has provided for us tonight. Ready?"

She laughed and placed her hand in the crook of my arm. "I am. Thank you."

The topic of horses was the overwhelming theme of conversation, until Victoria brought up what had happened to Peter and Charlotte on their ride out. Charlotte blanched, her hands trembling, so I knew it must have been something terrible.

"Well, we have told your father and stepmother already, Edward, so I will spare you the details but on the road outside of your village here, we were held up by a highwayman. He took all the money and jewelry we had on us. Thankfully, Charlotte had thought to hide some of our valuables away so that they would be inaccessible. He wasn't vulgar or violent, just brusque and I was very glad he didn't shoot us or, god forbid, do something horrible to my beautiful daughter."

I looked across the table to where Katherine sat, her eyes glazed in lust as she imagined the highwayman. Her mouth had fallen open and she was breathing a little hard. I don't think she would have fought if he had dragged her out of the carriage to have his way with her. At least not once they were out of sight of her parents. I tapped her foot with mine, bringing her out of her reverie. She started, and wiped her mouth as if she had drooled during her fantasy.

Her father noticed her jump and turned his kind eyes to her.

"Daughter, I would have never let him hurt you. Know that. You are safe now, either way. But that highwayman will pay when he is caught." He crashed his fist down on the table, startling everyone.

"Darling, calm down. He will be brought to justice. For everyone's safety and well being, they will deal with this threat." Charlotte soothed her husband's anger away, as if he were a child.

Katherine, sitting next to her mother, was still flushed from her daydream. She eagerly tucked into her next course as if to take any notice off of her strange behavior. We were nearing the end of the meal, and the men were going to remove themselves to father's study to discuss a possible future hunt. The discussion would be enjoying cigars and scotch.

As I walked out of the dining room, Katherine caught up to me and whispered in my ear, "You would make a breathtaking highwayman."

I know she was just trying to work me in to her fantasy, so I laughed and shook my head. "No, I don't think that I will do that. Too much risk involved. And I would feature too prominently in young girls' dreams. Not interested."

She laughed and swatted me on the arm.

"Maybe just this girl's, then?"

"Maybe." I replied, thinking there was one girl whose fantasies I only hoped I could be in.

--

* * *

**AC: So, I wonder how the stable sexing will go over? **

AN: It wasn't Bella, but he definitely wished it was.

**AC: True. I wonder if Bella would be flattered or creeped out?**

AN: I wouldn't mind him thinking about me like that, but that's just me…

**AC: Me too. Poor Katherine though, all that hard work, and nothing…**

AN: Hard work. Heh. Yeah she sure did get the short end of the stick.

**AC: Well, I don't know about short end of his stick. Let's not make any assumptions about size. **

AN: You're right. Maybe we'll hear from Bella someday about it.

**AC: We can only hope…I mean, for her sake. Obviously.**

AN: She is in for a bit of a surprise in the next chapter, so we'll see how she deals with it.

**AC: A surprise? Oooh, everyone LOVES surprises!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: We have had several pm's and messages about how slow we are updating this. And while we are glad you guys like it as much as you hopefully do, we are trying to write this while we worry about other stuff too, like school and full time jobs that pay a lot more than fan fiction. So, please understand that we are working on it, and we wish we could do nothing but write this everyday but there are other things to worry about. **

**We are also not historians, so please excuse our mistakes. We do what we can for research so that it won't be glaringly obvious, but I am sure we still miss things.**

**We want to thank our little beta-fairy and Emmett's bethrothed, Chewie. She was integral to the Edward half of this chapter and so I have given her Emmett. We haven't met Emmett yet in this story, but here's just a hint. He likes to bang things with his big, hot hammer. Can you guess? **

**Oh, and we don't own Highwaymen, Twilight, Volvo's or Edward. But we would like to. Really.**

* * *

**Bella**

I was finally stealing some time before the Cullen funeral to visit my friend Alice, having been diverted from her by a sudden downpour on my previous try. I had not been to see her in some time and wanted to make sure she was well.

I left my father to dress and promised to return by the time Jacob arrived to accompany us to the church. The inn was closed for the morning hours so that we could attend the service. Most of the townspeople would be in attendance to pay their respect to the family like ourselves.

But I knew Alice would not be going. Alice would not be welcome in the confines of the church because of the prejudices of the locals – the absurdity of the locals. They called her evil, a witch, a heretic and it is all just silly. She is a healer, a loving caring person, and a friend, nothing resembling the accusations that have plagued her.

I had met Alice about a year ago when Jacob and I were walking along the road, enjoying a rare dry fall afternoon when we came upon a group of men surrounding a small woman. Jake tried to maneuver us away so as to not get involved and put me in danger. But I was not willing to leave without knowing she was safe. I led Jacob over so that we could hear the exchange taking place.

The ruffians were towering over her tiny frame, throwing insults and repulsive suggestions toward her. She was frozen but had a resolved look in here eyes, as if working so that the fear would not show in her face. I looked to Jacob, pleading for him to step in.

Only when I moved to inject myself into the situation, standing between the biggest of the men and the woman did Jake act. Jacob, tall and broad, had no problem sending the _gentlemen_ on their way.

Alice immediately crumbled and I held her as she sobbed and from that day forward we have been the best of friends.

At first she told me that I did not want to be her friend because of the things the townspeople thought of her and Jacob quite agreed but I let them both know that I did not care what the others thought. I, of course, had heard talk of a wicked woman who told futures and used magic to heal, and I guessed that when I did not recognize her that she was the one they gossiped about. But it wasn't difficult to see after a few minutes with Alice that she had a good heart and that was all that mattered.

I tried to visit her often, enjoying the company as much as checking in on her. Despite the public feelings of the village, Alice kept quite busy though none would admit a visit with her. She confided in me that it did not matter as long as she was able to help those who were willing to accept her services.

When I was close to her house I heard a muffled scream coming from the dense trees that lined the area. It was a woman's scream and I was afraid someone was in trouble – afraid that Alice was in trouble. I passed the front of her house to walk into the woods cautiously, trying not to stumble and alert anyone to my presence before I could figure out how to help.

I heard the noise again mixed with a low grunt that sounded almost animal like in nature.

Walking towards the noise, I used the dense cover of the trees so as to not be seen. I knew I was getting close because the noises were getting louder.

After a very short time I found myself staring into a small clearing. As my eyes darted around knowing I had arrived in the general area the sounds were coming, I saw movement. And I saw people, two of them. I strained to see who it was.

As I started to make out their forms, I froze not knowing exactly what I was seeing.

Unsure of what exactly was happening.

He wasn't attacking her, was he? Or was this something else?

Another scream and a soft moan that could only be described as pleasurable told me that she was not in danger.

I stepped behind the large tree I was near. They had not noticed my intrusion.

I should have turned around and given them their privacy. I should have gone home and came back to see her after the funeral. I should have stopped watching. But I could not move.

I was barely able to make out petite Alice pinned against a tree by a tall, blond haired man. But I could see her, her skirts pulled up and her legs wrapped around his waist. The man's trousers were pulled down on his thighs, her heels dug into his backside.

I watched, entranced, as he trailed his mouth down her neck, looking like he was trying to devour her. She was making it easy for him by throwing her head back and the noises she was making seemed to encourage his vigor.

I blinked rapidly, trying to calm myself, trying to talk myself into slipping away as was proper, but nothing was working. My body would not turn, my legs would not move.

As I watched I suddenly noticed my heart was beating rapidly and my breathing was in rhythm with the entwined couple's movement. I could see that he was pressed between her bare legs, pushing into her with his hips, his muscular legs and cheeks clenching with every push. With every hard thrust forward Alice would whimper and respond with a hard push back against him.

Embarrassed by what I was doing; I watched my friend in a very intimate act, one that was not meant to be seen by prying eyes. I still willed myself to move, to leave. When I did not, I tried to reason that I was afraid of being caught but knew that it was more than that.

Watching her grip his hair between her fingers, pulling his mouth down to her breasts, his lips brushing against the rough linen, before he pulled it down, baring her to the cool air, caused me to gasp quietly, covering my mouth to mask the sound. My hand slid down my throat to the swells under my own bodice, fluttering there for a moment as I felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through my body. I understood what differences there were between men and women, I had learned of these types of relations. I heard talk of acts from some of the brash patrons of the inn, but I had never really understood, still did not really understand.

I would not ever ask my father about something like this; it was not a subject that a daughter and father would speak of – ever. I had not known my mother and no matter how close I was with Esme or Alice, it was not something that was spoken of in polite company.

And it was also not something that should be spied upon, but here I was. I felt my face heat up as I thought more and more about it and finally I was at least able to throw myself back behind the tree, taking my eyes off of them; hiding myself from them; trying not to think of what they were doing and how my body and mind were reacting to the scene.

No.

Not at all proper. I needed to go. Now.

Convincing myself that I was only making sure my retreat would go unnoticed – I peaked around my barricade for one more look. The man's hands were kneading her breasts now, his mouth attached to the pale skin at her shoulder, his teeth scoring her as he pressed his manhood into her in fast, hard strokes while her legs held tight around him. The cries were becoming louder and forceful now.

I had to leave.

Slowly I began to tiptoe away, not allowing myself to glance back at the couple.

What was wrong with me that I would be tempted to do so?

Because of the argument I was having with myself about my sudden indecency I did not notice the large tree root that hindered my path. When my foot caught and I began to fall to the ground an involuntary cry escaped from me. Slapping my hand to my mouth as quickly as I could to muffle the sound, I stilled completely and listened, hoping my presents was still unknown.

I immediately realized that the couple's sounds were quieted, except for urgent whispers. They knew someone was out here.

In a show of uncharacteristic grace I made it to my feet and quickly to the road in front of Alice's home. I stopped momentarily to brush myself off from my fall in the woods. I knew small wisps of my hair had escaped the twist and I hoped my cap would conceal the mess.

Just as I finished composing myself, Alice appeared from the side of the house. She looked flushed and her eyes were wide. I feared that she knew I had been spying. I tried to smile at her, to show no unease. I hoped she would not suspect if I acted naturally.

I hoped I _could_ act naturally.

"Bella?" Alice approached me as if she were afraid I would try to run. I wanted to.

Did she know?

"Hello Alice, I was just coming for a visit. Is this a bad time?" My voice was much more composed than I felt.

"Oh," her expression was unreadable as she seemed to be studying my face. I worked to stay impassive, not let the fear or being found out show. If she knew that I had seen…_them_ it would be embarrassing for us both. "I was just out for a…uh, walk," she visibly relaxed once she was close enough to pull me into a hug.

"Are you sure you just arrived? I did not keep you?" she suspected something. "Is that dirt on your dress Bella? Let me help you dust off."

I sighed, "I just fell, is all. You know me," and she did, an explanation of where and how I fell was not necessary; I often tripped on nothing but air.

After the loose dirt was removed from my dress, she invited me in without any further questioning. I explained that I was attending Cullen funeral shortly.

She scoffed, "always so proper, your family. Do you think the Cullen's bothered to mourn for your loss all those years ago? Or any other commoners' losses?"

"Alice, not only is it proper, but we also go for Esme. Esme is my friend, as are you, and you know that I would do anything for either of you, proper or not. This is her family. She needs us and we are going to be there for her," I knew that Alice meant no offense by her ridicule.

"Speaking of Esme, I better get back so that she does not have to be alone long. After my...fall, I was sidetracked and took longer than planned. But I will try to come more often so we can catch up. I do hope you are well. Are you in need of anything? I brought some bread I made for you." I stood to leave, taking the bread out of my basket.

"Oh, Charlie has been getting his aches again; I was hoping you had some of that herb you gave him last time. What was it?"

She smiled at me apologetically, "Let me get that for you, the feverfew. You remember how to prepare it for him, the tea?" I nodded as she gathered some of the herb from her cabinet. "Now give my sympathy to Esme. My heart grieves for her loss, if not for the Cullen's. And I am fine Bella, I am well cared worry too much; though I am always glad to see you."

I hugged her close, before stepping outside to head home; wondering if the man I had seen was the one caring for her.

--

We arrived at the funeral, and as expected, the crowd was large. I looked around for Esme, I had promised to be with her through it. Enlisting Jake and my father to look as well I began to wonder, looking into the area reserved for the house staff in case she waited for me there.

Having no luck I stood and looked around, spotting the mourning family. The Viscount was seated in the pew, pale and sickly looking, his eyes downcast. The countess, while she attempted to look doleful, wore an extravagant headpiece and a dress that would only bring attention in her direction, looking nothing like a mother who was mourning a lost son. I knew she was treating this as a social event; Esme had been distressed at her disrespectful actions during the preparations of the funeral.

My eyes then fell to my stranger, the Viscount's son. Edward. I watched him for a moment, entranced, hoping to see his eyes once more. As I watched, he seemed to be looking around at the church, observing the mourners as if looking for someone.

As I gazed at him and his beautiful profile as he scanned the room, thoughts of what I had seen in the forest flooded my mind. I began to wonder what it would be like – what it would be like with _him_. My legs wrapped around his waist, his hands – his mouth – on my skin, the heat of our bodies as they moved against each other.

I jumped when I felt a hand on my back and looked up, slightly breathless to see Jacob standing next to me. "Bella? Are you feeling well? You seem out of breath and you are flushed."

I felt bad because Jake looked concerned about me when I was only daydreaming of indecent things. I tried to shake of the thoughts and smile, "Jake, I am fine, I was looking for Esme," I could not say anything more, I did not want to lie.

"Oh, we found her, your father is comforting her while she waits for you. Are you sure? You look so pale?"

I only nodded and he led me over to my father and my best friend. One glance at Esme's grief stricken face, my heart broke and guilt overtook me. I had been fantasizing about a man, one that Esme thought of as her son, while she was grieving for the loss of another of her own. It was reprehensible and selfish.

I rushed to her, taking my father's place by her side. Tears filled my eyes as she sobbed in my arms. I whispered to her things that I knew would be no real comfort but I hoped that they might soothe her minutely.

I spent the remainder of the service, not listening, but holding Esme, letting her know I was there for her. When it was time to make the trek to the cemetery for the final burial Jake held her up as I walked close by with my father.

"Bella, will Esme be all right? Do you think we should take her home now, let her rest?" My father was very fond of Esme and he seemed very worried. I tried to calm him and told him that I believe that Esme would need to be at the grave, it would be expected. He agreed but insisted that he thought she should come home with us afterwards.

Esme quieted some as we waited but when the coffin was being lowered into the ground she suddenly tensed and then went limp at my side. Being close to the same size as me I began to falter under her weight but was relieved when Jacob and my father were at our sides taking hold of her.

She began to come to and I was trying to get her to look at me so that I would know if she was able to stand again. She was pale and looked ill so I asked them not to release her until she looked as if she could support herself or until we returned home.

"Esme, dear," my father leaned into her, supporting her weight easily with Jake's help, brushing his free hand across her flushed cheek.

I did not hear what else was said because Jake inclined his head towards me and ask if I was well.

"I am fine, Jacob, just worried about Esme," I assured him. Not entirely convinced, he insisted that I stay close by.

We stayed behind after the funeral was over, not wanting to drag Esme through the crowd of people in her state. My father had convinced her that no amount of trouble she would incur would be worth going back to the family house to work and she would come to the inn until she felt better.

As we made our way out, father and Jake still walking with Esme, me trailing close behind them, I found myself looking through the crowd. I knew I was being silly but I wanted to catch one more look at him. Just to see if I could see his eyes one more time, to see if they still held the intense pain I had seen before. I did not know why, but I hoped that he was healing.

I found him, walking towards his carriage, his arm linked with a tall statuesque woman. I wondered if this was the woman who he would marry, and briefly I felt a twinge of pain in my chest, but quickly pushed it away when I realized that if she were then she would be able to heal him and that is what I cared about. He was in pain and I hated seeing someone in pain, even those in higher stations than I. I scolded myself for the sadness that I still felt and followed my family as we made our way home.

**Edward**

The morning of Anthony's funeral dawned overcast and cold. I moved slowly to dress for the day, but was interrupted by someone at the door. The person knocked and I called for them to enter. The door opened, and Esme came in bearing a tray laden with food.

"Esme, you didn't have to bring my breakfast up to me. I could have come down and eaten in the dining room." I moved to her side, trying to take the heavy tray from her arms.

"They've already eaten, Edward, and your stepmother wanted the room cleaned and ready for guests coming today."

Her tone was sharp and I could tell she was strained. She put up with constant degradation from Victoria, more than I am sure I could imagine.

After setting the tray on my desk, she began arranging the plates for me to eat.

"Will we be leaving soon for the church?" I sat down in the chair and began eating.

"Your father is in his study. I am sure the others are dressing for the ceremony."

She turned away quickly and I heard her breath catch. I stood and went to her, my hand on her arm. She rubbed my hand, wiping away her tears.

"Will you be sitting with the house servants?" I asked quietly, not wanting her to be alone today.

Smiling through her tears, she said, "No. I will be sitting with a friend. I think I need a little space today."

Nodding, I replied. "Just know if it were up to me you would sit with the family. You know Anthony would have wanted it that way as well."

Her face fell at my words, and she sobbed again. I had hoped that telling her that would make her feel somewhat comforted, not even more bereft.

"Sweet boy. I had better get back downstairs to oversee the preparations for today." Her slow footsteps echoed in my head as she left the room. Today was going to be difficult for all of us.

--

After finishing my breakfast and dressing, I went down to see if there was anything my father needed. Esme had said he was in his study, and I found him there, huddled over his large mahogany desk. The room was dark; the sparse light filtering through the draperies, motes of dust caught floating in the air. He didn't move when I entered, and when I stepped up behind him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He sighed in frustration before turning toward me.

"Edward." He nodded as if answering some question in his head. "Did you need something, Son?"

"No. I just wanted to see how you were this morning and find out if there was anything you needed my help with."

He coughed, a deep rumble rippling through his chest and held a hand over his mouth.

"Esme is right. You are a good man." This was said in a low whisper, under his breath. "Thank you for asking. But I am just going over some of Anthony's papers. He seems to have left behind quite a mess and with the exorbitant cost of this funeral that Victoria has planned, I am a little bewildered. A trip to London will have to be organized soon so that I can settle some of these debts but this can all wait for another day." He shook his head, looking blankly across the room. "I needed a little time to myself, away from our guests before we leave for the church."

It was unspoken, but I knew he needed time away from Victoria. She was particularly audacious with an audience and her sister's family provided her with the perfect opportunity. I wondered at his comment about Esme, the inherent closeness that was implied. Had I missed something while I was gone? It was probably just the situation, with Anthony passing. That was all, I was sure.

Sitting on the edge of his desk, I faced my father.

"I can go to London and take care of any business that needs to be dealt with. There are things at the house that I need to retrieve if I am to be staying and with the weather as unpredictable as it is, I don't think you should be traveling."

He shook his head, preparing to object, but I cut him off.

"Let me do this. You are not well enough and the strain has not been helping."

His head was down, nodding, before he looked up at me.

"Thank you, Edward. I am glad you are my son." I tried to control my gasp of shock. My father was never one to make heartfelt statements to anyone.

He moved to stand, but weak as he was, he stumbled a little. I put my arm under his, helping him to his feet. It was easier to focus on my actions than it was to feel the guilt and pain just boiling under the surface. Guilt for being the surviving son and pain of loss, my brother and what I felt sure would soon be my father(rework). I helped him across the room and up the stairs to his room where he could finish preparing for today, all the while pushing down those feelings. Usually, I was not an emotional man, but today I felt like the world was getting a little darker and my future more bleak.

The hours rushed passed, and then I was sitting in the front row of the church, my father at my side and Victoria and her family seated in our pew. Victoria was playing the role of grieving step-mother to her best; the manufactured sorrow painted across her face was as garish as the feathered creation in her hair. I told her that it looked like a crow had built a nest up there.

Katherine was throwing sidelong glances at me, her lips pouting unnaturally when I wouldn't play. It was my brother's funeral after all. Couldn't she understand that for once I wasn't thinking about tumbling her in the barn? In fact I had been avoiding her all morning knowing she would try to engage me in one of her fantasies. I would not be a stand in highwayman for her.

I surreptitiously looked around the church for Esme. She hadn't sat with the house servants, and the church was so full with mourners that I was having trouble finding her. Of all the people here, she was the only one I was worried about right now. My father had Victoria, for whatever good she did, but Esme had to mourn alone.

I spotted her half way back at the side of the nave. Her body sagged into someone whose arms were wrapped around her as they smoothed her dress down her back. It was the girl. As she leaned down to whisper in soothingly Esme's ear, her pale skin and the soft swell of her breasts was revealed. I felt a swirl of anticipation, wanting to see more, but when she sat up and I could see the tears streaming down her face, I froze.

The sorrow in her eyes clarified my own pain. I felt a sting in my eyes, the tears fighting to surface and I spun around, vowing not to look at her again. If I were to make it through today I was not going to be able to see that much emotion on someone's face. I was reassured, because most of the mourners were there simply out of respect, not true care or love. And some had been paid, as was tradition, to fill out the crowd.

Words of praise and exultation about Anthony poured forth from the vicar and his description of Anthony was that of one who was a pious young man, one concerned with the spiritual lives of others. It was so misguided that I felt as if he were speaking of someone else. By calling out his alleged traits it seemed a crass and low incrimination of him in an unintended way. If I stayed detached, time would pass quickly and this would be over, a memory I would struggle to forget.

We stood at the end of the service, filing out of the church and over to the cemetery. My family had a separate plot there that was fenced off from the rest of the graves, and we buried Anthony next to my mother's resting place. Her gravestone was simple, not as extravagant as the others. I rarely visited, and it occurred to me that I should have. It seemed disrespectful to me now, but I had never known her. And I certainly wasn't encouraged by my father or stepmother to visit. Esme had tried to suggest it, but had never pushed either of us to go. She knew it was something we had to come to on our own.

The crowd was gathered behind us, as Anthony's coffin was put in the ground. I heard Victoria whispering angrily with her sister and turned to peer in the direction they were looking. It was Esme, being held up by a tall young man and the innkeeper. She had fainted and it seemed she was coming around, but her skin was still pale. The girl was fluttering around, obviously distraught over her condition. I wondered at who the young man was. Her suitor perhaps, certainly a close friend considering their close proximity and the way they worked together to care for Esme.

Victoria's anger didn't bode well for Esme, and while I found no fault with her behavior, I knew that there would be some punishment by Victoria. She was probably angry that someone was putting on a better show of grief than her, despite the fact that Esme was not acting.

When the burial was over we began walking back to our carriage. The crowd dispersed, most back to their normal daily lives, with an honored few to join us at our home. Refreshments would be served and people would gather to talk about what a sorrow it was to have the eldest son die such a tragic death. My head was pounding with the thought of hours to go with strangers throwing around false sorrow for my brother. All I wanted to do was escape to my room and read, or go riding, away from everyone. I was to be disappointed.

Victoria came sweeping up, a statuesque looking blonde girl on her arm.

"Edward, I have someone I want you to meet." She simpered at the girl, who just smiled at me.

I nodded politely, reaching out my hand towards hers, grasping it gently.

Victoria spoke up, making the introductions, "Edward, this is Miss Rosalie Hale. And Rosalie, this is Edward Cullen, the Viscount's only son."

I coughed, to cover up the shock I felt. That she would refer to me as such on the day my brother is interred was low, even for her.

Recovering quickly, I inhaled before speaking. "It's nice to meet you Miss Hale. And how do you know my stepmother?" I ground the last word out through my teeth, preferring to not refer to her as my mother in any capacity.

"My father is an acquaintance of hers and your father. He has been to the hunts your father and stepmother hold on several occasions."

Her manners were perfect and she was certainly beautiful, but a little cold. With her pale blonde hair and her ice blue eyes she just seemed like some kind of piece of porcelain.

I sighed, knowing what Victoria was trying to do. And while I understood it and the reasons why I must marry, resentment flared in my heart. This woman had never shown any care for me and was now trying to act as a mother, even though it was a role she made clear she never wanted.

I offered her my arm as the crowd moved towards the carriages and barouches waiting to take us back to the manor, walking to slowly to postpone the uncomfortable prodding I would receive from my stepmother once I reached our carriage.

We talked about things like the weather, hunting, and horses. She turned out to have quite an interest in horses, and was refreshingly knowledgeable about them. I found myself enjoying her company, her candor. We managed to spend most of the evening talking as the crowd reassembled at my home, avoiding the groups of mourners trying to approach me to offer sympathy. When it was time for her family to leave, I bid her farewell warmly.

Sighing with relief that the gathering was coming to a close, I spotted Victoria with her sister and Katherine. Both of the women were looking glum, but Victoria was smug. My entertaining Miss Hale was probably being construed in some marital context. Trying to fight that assumption was worthless, so I merely planned to ignore her weak attempt to pair me off. I wanted a wife that would be warm; her body's curves a testament to femininity. Miss Hale's sharp, angular body left me as cold as her face. The only fire between us was about horses couldn't sustain passion forever.

Memories of that luscious mahogany hair, those pillowy lips, left me burning. And her care for Esme caused my lungs to tighten. I would have to ask Esme about her when I found her. Not that it mattered. The girl was beneath me and I ought to put her out of my mind. I was leaving for London in the morning, to take care of the business that my father had mentioned to me. It would take me several days to work out all the negotiations and I was sure that when I came back, I would have forgotten all about the serving girl, no matter how tempting she is.

--

Alone in the carriage, I sighed wearily. The dealings in the city had taken much longer and were more troublesome than I had originally thought. Eager to get home, I took a carriage through the night. My father hadn't revealed to me the enormity of my brother's debt, and it was staggering. His accounts were spread throughout the city, amongst all different types of vendors and money lenders. It seemed his gambling was much more than a small habit; he had lost more money in the last year than our father had ever lost.

Rubbing my temples, I blew out softly, my head beginning to pound. It was then I heard the hoof beats. A horse raced up alongside the carriage carrying a man dressed in all black. The moon lit up his face, which was covered with a mask. The coach slowed, grinding to halt in the middle of the road.

The Highwayman.

He had a shock of blond hair peeking out from under the brim of his tricorn hat. But my perusal was cut short when he shoved a pistol in my face. He demanded my gold, jewels, any coins I might have.

He picked the wrong carriage tonight. I laughed silently, amazed at my luck. The past few days were spent either paying off debts or arranging for payments to made in the future. There was no money to spare. Now, here I was with a thief literally at my door wanting more.

"Ah, I see I have picked an honored quarry. A nobleman, laid low by his family's tragedy. Perhaps you'd like to cleanse your sins and guilt by making a small donation to the care of the common man." He sneered at me, pure hatred on his haughty face.

"I have nothing to spare for the common man this evening and would like to continue on to my home, if you would be so kind."

"Well, now here I thought that you were the kind, considerate son. I guess I was wrong. Not wanting to help those in need is a sin, Sir." His voice was so cold, the words clipped and terse.

"It's not that I don't want to share, it's merely that you have caught me at a low moment. I'm sure that the alms we made to the poor in honor of my brother went far in helping them this year."

His laugh was sharp. "You're sure, are you? You are dreadfully unaware of the situation for the people in your own village." He spat on the ground. "You disgust me."

"And you are some paragon of well being and purity? That's highly unlikely considering you gallivant around these roads robbing the innocent and taking the loot for yourself. A real upstanding citizen." I smirked at him.

"At least I can take care of myself without having to rely on my father," he spit again, an angry curse accompanying the sound. "I take what I need and no more, which is more than can be said of your family and their land holdings. Your tenants suffer, paying your exorbitant rents, while trying to care for their families."

His words were muddled in my head; the situation with our lessees was not one I had even been concerned with. I wondered if he was being truthful or if this was another way to taunt me. When I arrived home I was sure all of this information would be made available to me. I straightened in my seat as I thought about my new responsibility.

"I can and will take care of my family. Now if you will move on and let us continue our journey I would be most grateful and more likely to not report this meeting to the local authority."

He chuckled, the sound deep and loud this time, as if at a child. "Go ahead then. Scurry back home to your father and tell him that a man with greater morals than he decided to spare his only son's life. A man that doesn't let debts go unpaid. Tell him and watch his face. See if a flicker of recognition crosses it. Or if in his weakened state he has forgotten who and what he owes."

His horse reared back as he spurred it on, yelling behind him as he rode away, "Tell him!"

I pondered his strange and cryptic message for a moment, shaking my head in puzzlement before knocking on the roof of the carriage and hollering to the driver to continue home. As I slumped into the seat, I thought about his assertion that he had plenty of money to care for himself. How much was plenty? The debts my brother and stepmother had accrued hung over the family, and I was unsure of how to deal with them. The idea of a sudden influx of money, enough to erase our debt, was very intriguing.

I laughed loudly at myself. Perhaps Katherine wasn't too far off with her Highwayman fantasy after all.

* * *

**AC: Whew...well, that one took a lot longer than we thought it would.**

AN: Hopefully that made it better, and not worse. Longer is better, right?

**AC: I guess. Well, there was no sexing for Edward in the barn...poor baby.**

AN: It might be a little awkward to get in the habit of stable sexing though...

**AC: Yeah, he could develop a Pavlovian response to the smell of hay, and that would be just weird.**

AN: He can develop a Pavlovian response to me instead maybe...

**AC: Wouldn't that be nice. I think we may develop a Pavlovian response to reviews though...  
**  
AN: Like good ones make us write?

**AC: Yeah, something like that. **


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: We want to say a BIG thank you to Twilighter620…she left a long ass review even though her computer crashed and she had to redo…now that's some dedication to Nobleward and he appreciates your persistence! You should check out her story Secret, it's about SWAT team Edward…need I say more?**

**And a HUGE thank you to Gallantcorkscrews. She beta'ed both halves of the chapter this time and did an AMAZING job. Her help is so vital to Nobleward, he would knight her if he had the authority. All I can give her is Emmett, good thing he's a big one. **

**And thanks to all of our readers. You guys have been so patient and great! One of our New Year's resolutions is to update more often! We are already working on the next chapter so it shouldn't take nearly as long!**

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_He chuckled, the sound deep and loud this time, as if at a child. "Go ahead then. Scurry back home to your father and tell him that a man with greater morals than he decided to spare his only son's life. A man that doesn't let debts go unpaid. Tell him and watch his face. See if a flicker of recognition crosses it. Or if in his weakened state he has forgotten who and what he owes."_

--

**Edward**

The carriage pulled up to the door, the wheels crunching on the gravel. I jumped down without waiting for the valet to open the door. My mind was still spinning from the thief's cryptic message for my father. I wasn't sure how to approach him about it. He was so fragile now, his health strained by the trauma of Anthony's death.

I looked around for Esme as she usually met me whenever I arrived home, but she was no where to be found. Newton was getting my bags down and the carriage would then be taken to the stable by one of the grooms.

"Sir, would you like me to take your bags up to your rooms?" Newton's sudden voice startled me.

"Ah, yes. That would be fine. Is my father awake?"

"I believe he is in his library, Sir."

I nodded and moved toward the door, hoping to catch my father before he retired for the night. He had been spending a lot of time in his library lately, and I wasn't sure if it was good for his condition. He would sit close to the fireplace for hours at a time drifting in and out of wakefulness.

My footsteps echoed down the quiet hallway, the air around me still. It was late; Victoria had probably gone to her rooms. I wondered again at Esme's absence. It was unlike her, and I wasn't sure what to think after the stress of last week.

I knocked softly on the door before pushing it open. The library was dark, the only light coming from the great hearth opposite of me. There were two wingbacks pulled up to it, but I couldn't tell if my father was still in one. I started across the room when I heard a sudden booming cough. Startled, I hurried to my father's side, panic coursing through me.

As I neared him, I could see that he was asleep, wrapped up in a wool blanket and his head lolling to the side. His body would shake with his coughing, but he didn't wake. I lightly laid my hand on his shoulder, overcome by the sight. At my touch he turned towards me, eyes opening.

"Edward. You're home." His voice was weak, but relieved.

"Yes, I've just arrived. Can I sit with you?" I gestured at the chair next to him.

"Of course. Sit. Tell me how your trip was; how the meetings went…" He dissolved into another fit of coughing.

"What can I get you? Should I send for Esme? She can make you some of that, what was it she called it, tea or tincture."

He shook his head, taking several deep breaths before he spoke.

"Esme is no longer under this roof." He paused, turning toward the fire, his eyes downcast. "She has left us."

"Left us? I don't understand. Why would she have left? This is her home. She belongs here." My voice was rising in frustration. After all I had lost recently, this was the last straw.

My father was nodding in agreement.

"Yes, I know."

"Then what could have caused this to happen?" He had to know more than he was revealing.

"After your brother's funeral, she didn't come home. And from what I understand, she is staying in the inn and is going to marry the innkeeper." His voice was cold now, the last word bitten off.

I didn't understand the relationship between my father and Esme, or if there even was one to consider. I had never seen Carlisle act untoward with her. He expected a lot from her, but he was demanding with all of the servants. And she had always been the one that could handle his moods the best.

I sat back in my chair, trying to comprehend what had happened to my life in the past month. I thought of the trip back from London and the highwayman stopping me. How could I bring this up to my father now? He was obviously distraught over Esme's departure. Would the highwayman's message be more than he could handle?

I cleared my throat. "My trip home was eventful. We were stopped by a highwayman outside of town."

My father's head whipped around, "What happened? Was anything taken? You were unharmed?"

"He did not injure me, and sadly there was nothing left for him to take from me. But he did have a message for me to deliver."

"A message to deliver? To whom?" His expression was one of puzzlement; his brow creased in confusion.

"For you, actually. He said the message was for you." I watched his face closely as I spoke, hoping to see some glimmer of recognition. "He said something about paying debts that one owed."

His eyebrows shot up, but he composed his face quickly, the shock dissolving before my eyes. He did know something about this, but I knew he would not divulge the details.

"Well, he sounds mad. We should be glad you were let go without any harm and consider ourselves lucky." Avoiding my gaze, he turned back to face the fire.

I nodded and took a deep breath before standing. "It has been a long day and I believe it is time for me to get some sleep. Goodnight Father."

"Goodnight Edward."

I left the room to the sound of his coughing. I hurried up the stairs, longing for my warm bed and restful sleep. I thought again about what the highwayman had said about our tenants and decided to broach the subject of our land holdings with my father tomorrow. It was time I started learning more about running this estate.

--

I yawned and leaned back in my chair, a messy pile of papers and ledgers splayed across my desk. I had spent the better part of the day going over the numbers that constituted my inheritance. Since I didn't know what most of this meant at the start, I felt I had learned quite a bit. Of course what I had learned was not very heartening. My father was correct in his assertion that Anthony and Victoria's extravagant tastes were slowly draining our funds.

I was restless from so much time spent at my desk. My days were filled with hunting and riding now- perhaps some reading. I never sat hunched over a desk. A ride sounded appealing, so I decided to head to the stables. Perhaps I could ride into town and see Esme. If she was at the inn, I could talk to her and find out what had actually happened. My father hadn't mentioned our conversation last night when we spoke at breakfast. And I was not expecting him to broach either subject willingly again.

As I walked down the hallway, I passed what had been mine and Anthony's nursery as children. So many days were spent there with Esme and my brother. One memory sprang to my mind. Esme was so careful with Anthony and me normally, but it was my birthday and she had been happy to accommodate me. We were playing at hunting. Anthony and I took turns playing the fox being chased and the hunter riding on Esme's back. I was the fox this time and raced ahead of Esme, staying just out of her reach. When I turned back to taunt Anthony, I noticed Esme had stopped. I called out to her, wondering why we had stopped playing. She didn't answer but just looked over my shoulder. My father stood in the doorway behind me, staring at her in disapproval. Or what I had always believed was disapproval.

Never had I seen my father so intent, so focused on someone as he watched Esme. My first thought had been that he was angry with us, but now that I was older now, I realized that things may not have been as simple as they seemed. He watched Esme crawl on her hands and knees not with a look of anger- but of intensity. She was young then, and beautiful. Even as a small boy I knew she was beautiful.

I remember trying to get my father's attention, but he couldn't take his eyes off of her as I continued to call out for him. He finally broke away from her only to stalk off down the hallway, never answering me, never acknowledging that I had spoken.

His distant behavior was proper and expected, but it always stung when he wouldn't speak to us for days or even weeks, choosing to leave us in the nursery. But on the days he did visit, I wondered now if he even truly wanted to spend time with us or if he had been trying to spending time with her. This possibility colored my whole childhood in a different light.

Sighing, I continued to walk, lamenting the loss of my mother. If it hadn't been for Esme, Anthony and I would have had quite a lonely childhood.

The groom had Bellisima saddled and ready for me when I arrived at her stall. I had taken to riding her on my daily excursions. Victoria was angry that I had commandeered her newest addition, but I wasn't concerned. She needed something to complain about so I was merely giving her ammunition for her daily tirades.

I quickly rode toward town, wondering if I would in fact find Esme at the inn. And I wondered if I would see the girl. I focused on the image of her in the church, her eyes brimming with tears, her lips quivering in sadness. So much emotion and for who? Anthony? His untimely death had brought me back here, much to my chagrin. My life had been torn apart, but as I felt myself grow angry, I realized it was not over the altered course of my existence. Her emotion had been summoned by his death. Her sadness was a result of his demise.

How could she feel so much? She didn't know him. She didn't understand the careless way he moved through life. I shook my head, trying to clear these useless thoughts. It didn't matter what she thought or felt- especially not to me.

I focused instead on my destination and talking with Esme. So much had happened since I had spoken with her last, and I needed her advice, her calming words. I needed to know why she had left.

Upon arriving at the inn, I left my horse with the young man at the stable. He was impressed with the mare, and I flipped him an extra coin before leaving, hoping it would ensure careful treatment of her.

I strode into the inn, ducking my head at the door and allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim interior. My eyes were drawn to her instantly. She stood, her side facing me, chatting amicably with a young couple at a long table across the room. She giggled at something the man had said. Her cheeks were stained with a faint blush and she moved as if to walk away. The man's eyes shifted to mine and he straightened his back abruptly. When she saw his posture change she turned to see what had caused it.

She met my gaze, and her blush deepened. We gazed at each other, neither one able to break the connection. I heard a throat clear behind me but still I kept my eyes on her. She dropped her eyes to the floor demurely before looking back up at me through her lashes. It was an innocent look, without guile or manipulation, and I felt like I had been kicked in the chest, all the air forcibly pushed from my lungs. I didn't turn away, I couldn't turn away until I felt a hand clamp around my forearm.

I turned to find Esme grasping my arm, her face grim. She started to walk towards the door of the inn where I had just entered. Dropping my arm, she called over her shoulder, "I'll be back in a moment, Bella."

I saw the girl nod then open her mouth to respond, but no words came forth. Still blushing, she shook her head and hurriedly made her way to the back of the inn, stumbling once. I tore myself away from watching her retreat and stepped outside to speak with Esme.

She walked around the building so that we were isolated but not hidden. We would be able to see someone approach if need be. Sighing softly, she began to speak.

"It is good to see you Edward. I have worried about you since we saw each other last. I am sure your father has informed you of my plans, and I hope you came to wish me well."

Her chin jutted out as she looked up at me, as if daring me to challenge her.

"My father has told me some version of the events which have led to your recent move. I had hoped to find out from you what really happened, as he was not very forthcoming." I tipped my head to the side before nodding. "But let me say Congratulations on the news of your engagement. If it didn't result in my loss of your company I might be more joyful."

"Oh, Edward. You and your father are so alike. Both only worrying about the effect on your own comfort." Her voice was sad, her hands clenched at her sides.

I frowned at her words. "Do you really think me so selfish, Esme? It will be quite a change not having you at the house, but I do not begrudge you your happiness. Far from it. I will miss you, you know." I smiled at her sadly, thinking of how lonely the house would be without her bustling around.

She returned my smile, patting me on the arm. "I know, and I will miss you as well. But it was time. Your step-mother made that quite clear to me and I have to agree with her, if only in this instance. Charlie wants to marry me and I will have a home of my own. A place where I am needed and loved." She blushed a little at this, seeming shy. "He cares for me a great deal and I… I have to be practical. I need someone to care for me."

"I understand. He seems like a good man, and I hope he appreciates what he is getting." I glanced around, not wanting to look at her as I asked about the girl. "And his daughter? She approves of the match?"

I heard her utter a growl, and brought my eyes to hers. Her expression was shocking, angry almost. "I saw how you were looking at her, Edward. And she's not one of your dalliances to play with before casting aside. She is a good girl. I won't sit by and watch you take advantage of her. I know you have been experiencing quite an upheaval in your life, but I won't let anything happen to Bella."

I was surprised at her vehemence. I had just looked at the gir; not even spoken a word. Obviously I was drawn to her, but she was beautiful. Surely any man would feel the same. Looking at her didn't constitute an advance on her.

"I apologize if my behavior has been misunderstood, but I mean no harm to the girl. She is beautiful, but anyone can see that." She was simply a serving girl. No one I would concern myself with normally. But I couldn't argue with the draw I felt towards her. It was something I would have to learn to ignore.

"I know you, Edward. I can see when you are hiding something from me. But I will trust you on this. She is to be married to a local farmer soon, and it would not be helpful for there to be any scandal." She relaxed visibly and reached for my arm, tucking her hand into my elbow. "Now that that is settled, let me get you something to drink. I miss taking care of my boy." She laughed a little at that as we walked back into the inn.

The innkeeper, Charlie, was behind the bar. There were only a few patrons scattered at tables around the room. Esme slid my glass of ale on the bar top and I stood, raising it up. "A round on the house in honor of Charlie, his lovely bride, and their happiness together."

There was a cheer in the room, but whether it was for the happy couple or the promise of free drink I wasn't sure. Esme blushed deeply and Charlie broke out into a proud smile, his arm wrapping around her waist. She curled into him, looking happier than I had seen in a long time. My attention was broken when I heard another speak.

I turned to look at the speaker. It was the man Bella had been talking with earlier. He was speaking to someone at his table, and the word highwayman rose above the din. His face was full of disdain as he ranted about thieves and the gutless manner in which this man was committing his crimes.

At that moment the door opened; a tall man striding through it. He made his way to the corner, backing himself in so that he had view of the whole room. When our eyes met, he smirked and bowed in mocking deference. I ignored his impudence, choosing to rest my eyes on the girl again. She was taking the new patron's order and his eyes roved over her lush figure appreciatively. I barely suppressed the growl that jumped to my throat. I watched her, feeling startlingly possessive of her.

The man that had been complaining about the highwayman continued his tirade, his voice growing louder as he talked. I was curious to hear what others thought about the highwayman, given his claim that he was bettering the live of the less fortunate. The people here didn't sound as if they thought he was as selfless as he had claimed. I grew disappointed when her eyes never rose to mine again, her avoidance obvious. If our gazes happened to cross, she would quickly look to the ground.

I stifled the urge to call her over, knowing it would only cause more trouble. Taking a long drink of my ale, I forced myself to focus on the man that had just come in. He seemed familiar, but I wasn't sure how. And his attitude towards me was disturbing. I didn't expect people to fall to their knees but his contemptuous behavior was hard to fathom.

He turned his head toward the current discussion, his eyes warily watching the men. His expression was guarded, but his curiosity was obvious. Bella came back with his drink, setting it down in front of him. She frowned at the men, her brow furrowed. I wondered what was bothering her, but then she spoke and my question was answered.

"You don't know why he is doing it. What if his family is hungry or been evicted?" She looked around the room. "We shouldn't judge someone else's struggle in life."

The men scoffed at her, laughing disdainfully; but she stood her ground, her fierce expression never wavering. The newcomer looked up at her almost kindly, smiling at her sternness. Her defense of this thief struck a chord in me. Her sadness over Anthony, her belief that everyone should have a chance to defend themselves- her kindness knew no bounds. I considered most people's compassion to be a weakness, yet this girl's gentleness just drew me to her.

I drained my glass, and rose to leave. If I stayed here any longer there would be no stopping me when it came to her. The urge to pull her into my lap and touch her was already more than I could handle.

I nodded goodbye to Esme and her husband to be and went to the door. The cool night air swirled around my head as I tried to clear my thoughts. The sun had set, but it was not yet late. A ride would help me gather my wits before going home. My father would want to know how Esme was, and for whatever reason I didn't want talk to him about it.

Riding west, I let the horse run, feeling the moist air whip past me. I rode that way for a while before turning back towards home. The horse followed our path out of town, passing the inn. One window upstairs was lit with a dim glow, and I could barely make out someone moving in the room. The curtains pulled away, and the girl appeared, opening the window. Her face was dark, her hair flowing over her shoulders, blocking the light. She was dressed in a light woven bed-gown that tied at her throat. I had never seen someone lovelier; her hair shining, skin glowing in the candlelight. When she turned back to her room, her face was sad, her full lips turned down at the corners. I wanted to climb to her window and ask what had made her so melancholy. My feelings were very out of line, yet there was no fighting them. It was like I was being pulled under by a strong current. I stayed still, watching her for another moment, my body reacting to her in a painful rush.

Pulling myself away I headed home, her fierce defense of the highwayman echoing in my head. Not many people would accept or forgive such a crime, but she considered his possible motivations. She must have the most forgiving heart alive. It made me crave to know more about her-to see how she could be so pure.

It also made me think that perhaps the way out of debt could be along that path. The highwayman doesn't have to kill; in fact it would be completely unnecessary. I ran through an inventory of the highwayman's tools and costume. I had a set of matching pistols that had been my grandfathers. If I cleaned them I could use those and the costume would merely be older, rougher pieces from my wardrobe.

A thrill ran through me at the thought of being masked. That I could approach the girl without fear of recognition. I thought of touching her, pulling her hair free of its knot and wrapping my hands in its silky lengths. The thought made me groan and I spurred the horse on faster. My frequent fantasies about her were forcing me to take care of myself quite often. I felt like a boy in the flush of his youth, unable to resist the sweet release.

The horse made good time, and I made my way to my rooms quickly. I lay back on my bed, the image of her floating before my eyes. I untied my breeches and reached inside, gripping myself roughly. It was her hand I imagined sliding up and down my length, her lips parting as she whimpered. She straddled my legs before accepting me into her body. She would be so tight and so soft as my hands gripped her flaring hips. I closed my eyes, feeling the soft swish of her hair on my chest as she rode my cock, her tiny hands on my ribcage propping her up. She would smell like berries all over her hair and skin and I could feel my body winding tighter. Just as I imagined pulling her full breasts to my lips, and the way they would bud in excitement, I exploded. My breath rushed out in a hiss, her name bursting from my lips as the waves of pleasure flooded through me. Rolling over, I wiped my seed from my belly with my shirt, tossing it next to the bed. My eyes were heavy and I let myself slip into a sleep that would hopefully be filled with dreams of her.

--

**Bella**

"Esme, really, I should stay and help," I protested as she pushed the small packages into my hands, almost shoving me out the door.

With a small laugh and a shake of her head she told me to go. She had been doing this every morning since arriving at the inn- after being unceremoniously cast from the Cullen household.

She would be awake before me with a big smile on her face, breakfast started, bread ready, insistent that I spend my morning at the church with the children or taking care of errands that could have waited until later. I should have been helping serve breakfast to the guests; I should have been helping Charlie.

"Oh, and do not forget to visit the smith today and see if he was able to fix the handle of that pan. It would be nice to have it back," she chuckled, turning back to the oven and continuing the breakfast preparations.

--

The morning went well. The early hour prevented too much play time with the children but I was still able to visit a few. I tried to watch over in the town, as many families had fallen on hard times. I could not offer them much. However, my offerings of food and my time were rewarded with smiles and sincere appreciation.

Before making my way back to the inn to help start dinner, I found myself in front of the blacksmith's shop. Esme had brought the pan here, and I had hoped that she would be the one to retrieve it. But since she was doing so much for us at the inn, I could hardly complain about this one small task.

It was not that I minded the errand; it was more that I was _afraid_ of the smith. Not afraid of him because he was a large man, which he most definitely was. Nor did I fear him because he was unpleasant, which he was absolutely not. But he was Emmett McCarthy.

Emmett was an Irish man, a few years my senior, with brown curly hair that was often stuck to his head with sweat. He was very handsome, tall, and huge. He reminded me of a large bear. One would be silly not to be intimidated by him; he looked as if he did not need his tools to do his job but could just bend the material to his desired shape with the flick of a wrist.

At first this was enough to scare me, but I soon found that his size had nothing to do with my reluctance to face him. While he looked daunting, he was actually quite warm and friendly, with a smile and a laugh for everyone. Unfortunately, he was often laughing at me. He assured me more than once that he meant no affront, but he found my clumsiness quite amusing and enjoyed making fun of my countless brushes with inelegance. He flustered me so I could not help but trip and fall whenever he was around.

Taking a deep breath and chastising myself for being nervous, I made my way into the workshop. Emmett, impossible to miss due to his hulking form, did not notice my arrival. I watched him as he worked, his large muscles flexing as he swung his hammer, pounding out whatever piece of metal that was in need of repair or shaping. I was not sure how I would get his attention so I waited until he turned, knowing that I could not speak over the sounds of the shop and hoping that he would see me before too long.

I busied myself by looking at the iron work that adorned the walls; horseshoes, pans, and other tools decorated the warm small space. But there were also other twisted metal objects that looked impossible to have been formed using an anvil and hammer. Seeing the amounts of detail involved, I wondered if these were things that the smithy enjoyed creating,

"MISS BELLA!"

The sudden booming Irish brogue of Emmett startled me, causing me to jump and drop the basket I was holding. _Of course._

I fumbled trying to be graceful as I moved to pick up the basket, knowing I was beet red. Emmett was doubled over laughing.

"Mr. McCarthy," I nodded with a tight smile.

After he composed himself he came over to me, his smile still large and genuine. "How can I help you today? I am sure that you did not just come to entertain me with that pretty blush of yours."

I must have blushed some more because he chuckled again. "I –I came to pick up the pan that Esme brought in a few days ago." It sounded more like a question when I finally got it out.

"Ah, yes, Esme," he said, trying to think back to her visit. "Such a pleasant woman, and I did hear that she was staying at the inn now. Let me see…" he walked to a small pile of pans and tools and looked around, moving items aside until he found the one he looked for.

"Here it is, my dear, good as new!" He handed over the pot, handle in tack. "Now how did this," he held the heavy pot up as if it weighed nothing at all, "get broken anyway? It is such a sturdy piece."

I must have changed color again, because he began laughing – again, shaking his head.

With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and told the truth, knowing it was no use trying to fib. I was no good at lying. "I dropped it while filling it and then stumbled onto the handle before I could retrieve it from the ground." My voice was barely above a whisper as I finished.

"Ah, the fun your father must have when you are around- though his wealth will certainly grow when you marry, he will not have to pay to mend so much broken cookware." He was chuckling, but I could only look at my feet.

Without acknowledging his comment, I asked him what I owed him. After giving him his shillings and securing the fixed pan, I took my leave.

"Oh, and Bella- maybe I will come by the inn some evening soon and have a drink. Perhaps I can see your clumsiness in action." He winked. I scurried out of the shop as quickly as I could, not wanting him to see the flush that his teasing had caused.

--

"Father." I entered the office quietly, not wishing to distract his concentration. "I was just heading to help Esme in the kitchen; I wanted to be sure you did not need anything before I went."

"Isabella." He looked up from his ledger and motioned me in. "Come, sit. We have not spoken in ages."

I sighed. Our talks lately have only been the normal prodding towards Jacob and marriage. He would not be convinced that I could not be persuaded.

"Of course." I would not deny that I missed our nightly talks. "So how was your day?" I asked, hoping to keep the conversation light.

He chuckled, seeing through my plan. "No, no Bella. I have something I would like to speak to you about."

My interest was peaked. He never broached on the marriage subject like this; it must be something different.

When I did not reply he decided to continue, "Well, I think you know how much I have enjoyed having Esme stay with us…" he paused, mulling over his words carefully.

I nodded, hoping to encourage him. "Ah, well, you see..." he stuttered. "I am very, uh…fond of her and she has agreed to be my wife."

He said this so fast that I had to sort through his words for a moment to understand. "Wife?" I was stunned…and happy. I must have smiled, because my father smiled down at me in relief.

"That is great news!" I told him. I had noticed changes in him since she had arrived to stay with us, but never knew that she returned those feelings. I was pleased for both of them. I know my father would treat her with the respect and love she deserved.

We continued catching up a bit, discussing the engagement and the general goings on of the town. As it become late I excused myself to help Esme in the kitchen and to prepare for bed.

"And Bella," my father started again as I collected the some stray dishes to take to the kitchen. "About the exchange in the bar this evening, please remember not to involve yourself with the business of the patrons. They are not here to hear what you think about highwaymen or any of you _other _opinions." He kept his voice serious but his eyes were swimming with mirth.

"Of course, father."

I thought of the argument in the inn and Edward. He seemed so interested in what I was saying. He looked to be hanging onto my every word. Esme had clearly been discontented by the attention he showed me, so I avoided looking at him directly for fear of acting improper.

I did not have time to think on it because she seemed to be waiting for me when I entered the kitchen. She probably knew that my father had told me their news. I smiled to reassure her

She quickly moved from the basin, taking the items from my hands and placing them aside so she could embrace me. "Bella, I just want you to know that I intend to take good care of him."

"I have no doubt Esme." I hugged her back. "I look forward to having you around permanently. You already were the mother I never knew. I could not have dreamed a better match for my father. You will make him so happy."

When I pulled away I noticed tears in her eyes. I led her to the table and held her hand in firmly. "You are happy, are you not Esme?"

She smiled through her tears. "Of course I am happy. Your father is a very sweet man who will no doubt take care of me as I intend to take care of him."

"And you love him?"

"I care deeply for him and want nothing but his happiness." She must have read the confusion on my face because she looked at me as if she wanted me to understand something.

But I did not understand. Why would Esme want to marry someone she did not love? Why would my father want to marry a woman who did not love him? Had she told him she loved him? Did he love her?

She decided to explain when I did not say anything else. "Bella, you must understand. Sometimes it is not just about love, it is about security. Your father will provide for me, and I will see that he is happy. If you can find someone who can provide for you and he is a good man, then you should consider yourself lucky. Love is often just a fairy tale, and if found it is rarely uncomplicated."

Her explanation made me sad. The joy I had felt before had now faded. I knew that this is how they both felt about love. It was made very apparent by the numerous conversations I had with them both pushing me towards a union with Jacob Black. I just never thought about it in practice.

Being perceptive as she is, Esme noticed the sorrow I was feeling. "Bella, just because it is not love now, the potential for love is there. Love can grow and be real, even if it is not immediate and as all consuming as a fairy tale. If that person is, say, a good friend, then the likelihood of love blooming is even better." I had a feeling this discussion had become less about her and my father.

"Esme, please..." She put her hand up for me to stop.

"Bella, I feel more compelled now than anytime before, now that I am to be your true mother. I feel that I should advise you to accept Jacob when he comes to court you again. He is a wonderful man and will take great care of you. You are lucky because he does love you and will love you with everything he has and you love him, even if you are not _in_ love with him – that will come later."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she only shook her head at me. "Now, do not try to use your father or the inn as an excuse. I am here now. I will take care of them. And you know very well that Jacob would never object to your charity. But think about yourself for a moment. Think of the happiness a home and children will bring into your life- yours, Jacobs, and your father's. How elated he would be to have a grandson!"

I felt like I had been thrust into a different world. How had a discussion about my father and Esme marrying turned into musing about grandchildren? I feigned fatigue and excused myself with a nod of understanding and a squeeze of her hand.

I went to my room, intending on collecting myself and mending some clothing to pass the time, not quite ready to sleep. As I was collecting the shirt that my father had put in the pile of items that needed attention, I realized that I had forgotten my sewing kit in the sitting room. I did not have an extra in my room, so I decided a quick trip downstairs would be necessary.

As I approached the room I heard Esme's harsh whispers. The light in the kitchen was rather dim, so I assumed she had been turning in for the evening. I blew out the candle I had in my hand and peeked around the door, curious as to who would be visiting at this hour. I saw her standing in the threshold, a single candle illuminating her profile as she spoke to the person standing outside the door.

"Not now," she continued. I moved behind the wall when I saw her start to inspect the room. "You should not be here. What could you have to say to me now?" Her voice was broken yet stern.

I chanced a glance back into the room, only to see hands extend and pull her into the night by her shoulders.

The visitor's voice was almost a whisper, raw and full of emotion. "Esme! You cannot be serious about marrying this man. The innkeeper? Do I mean nothing to you?"

I made my way into the kitchen slowly. I could be caught eavesdropping at any moment but I felt compelled to understand who this man was and what his objections to my father could possibly be.

I made it to the door, still thrown open, and slid behind it. Luckily they had moved so that I could see them through the opening through the hinges. With only the moon for light, I could make out Esme limply leaned against a tree, looking like she only wanted to fall to the ground and sob. The man was standing rigid in front of the back wall of the inn, looking for as if he too might fall to the ground at any moment. I felt the need to interrupt this encounter, if only to save Esme from the pain she was currently in- but thought better of it when they began to speak again.

"Carlisle, of course you mean something to me. You mean everything. But it does not matter. You are married and I am but a servant. There is nothing for us. I cannot even be in the same house as you now. You stood by while she threw me out and did nothing."

Carlisle? Viscount Cullen? Oh my, I could now understand what she meant by love being complicated.

He began to speak and I listened intently. "Esme, what could I say? Edward and Anthony were my excuse. Now that they are gone or grown, Victoria knew something was amiss. I could not protest without bringing attention to myself and our _relationship_." His argument sounded weak, and he trailed off into barely a whisper. "Esme, please, tell me what I could have done?" he pleaded.

Esme moved towards him suddenly, reaching out and reverently touching the heavy stubble on his face. I could see the love and pain reflected in her eyes by the light of the moon. "Oh, my love, I know. We are just not meant to be. There is nothing that can be done for _us_. We are not for each other. You will go back hometo your wife and son, and I will stay here. Charlie is a wonderful caring man who will take care of me. Be happy for me if you love me. Just be happy I am cared for and that I have a family- a daughter who needs a mother, a home that needs tending, and a man to call my own. This is where I belong. If Edward, or even you, ever need me, you know where to find me."

The Viscount clasped Esme's hand to his cheek. As he moved forward I noticed he looked even more ragged and tired than he had at his son's funeral, and I found myself worrying for this man who I did not know. I worried for his heart and his health- and his son. Esme seemed to be thinking the same thing. A tear glimmered on her cheek as they shared a look that made me feel as if I was seeing something even more intimate than the act I had witnessed in the forest that day.

"Now go home. Take care of yourself. Eat, sleep, and be there for your son. He needs you now more than ever. He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders this evening. Of course, no more than you," she chuckled darkly. "And encourage him. Encourage him to be a good man, just as you are. Encourage him to be respectful and remind him he is cared for. Please."

"Of course, Esme. Anything. I love you, I just wish…" And suddenly he wasn't frail and broken anymore. He pushed Esme back against the tree she had been leaning against and pressed his mouth against hers. One of his hands gripped her waist tightly, while the other found its way to the knot at the back of her head, working it free.

The kiss continued for awhile, I was no longer sure about the passage of time as I immersed myself into this couple in love. This was only the second time I had seen something like this. While this time it was less intimate, it was no less powerful. They shared the love of the fairy tales. But her bitterness was now explained.

I could see from my hiding place that he was kissing her neck now. Her head thrown back, allowing him to lavish her with his love. I knew from the look on her face she was memorizing his movements – the love.

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be indignant – how could she do this to my father? But I could not. I wanted to cry. I wanted to give her a hug and figure out a way for her to be happy with the man she loved, but I knew it was impossible.

Lost in thought, I let my hand holding the unlit candle fall to my side. It hit the ground with a loud thump. I only chanced a quick look to see that Esme had heard the noise and pushed the Viscount away, whispering that someone was coming. I scooped up the little candle and ran back to my room before she could come in and discover me.

No longer concerned about the sewing, I quickly pulled myself into bed. Staring up at the ceiling, I was unable to reconcile my thoughts and feelings. I loved Esme and hated that she was hurting but I knew there was nothing I could do for her. I knew my father would care for her, but could that ever be enough if she knew the kind of love I saw between her and Viscount Cullen?

What about my father? Would her discontent rub off on him? Would he be miserable if he ever found out that his wife had been in love with the Viscount? Of course, Esme would never tell him, and I realized immediately that my father would remain blissfully unaware of any of this. I found comfort in this.

I vowed that the next time Esme spoke to me about love and security I would regard her more kindly, knowing that she spoke from experience. Though I was still not willing to concede to the idea that I would never find my true love or that I could maybe, one day, have my fairy tale.

* * *

**AC: TA DA!**

AN: hmm…so, finally, right?

**AC: yeah…do you think that they will forgive us for the wait?**

AN: hope so…

**AC: it is all going to happen fast now…well, it will if we start writing anyway…**

AN: Whew, how about the backdoor action for Esme and Carlisle...

**AC: What? Where? Oh wait.**

AN: Not that kind of backdoor action, silly!

**AC: A girl can dream!**


	6. Chapter 5

**So, here we are FINALLY updating! Sorry it was so long...no one big excuse but lots of little excuses. Hopefully you will think we have made up for it by the end of this chapter, we are really excited about this one!!!**

**Thanks to Jfly for beta'ing and to Lipsmacked, Guineapigbarbie and Gustariana for reading and advising! Edward needed their help!**

* * *

**Bella**

"Charlie, I think you know that I care deeply for her. My father and I think of you and Bella as family already, so whatever the amount I am sure it will be more than enough," his loud voice easily carried to me just outside of the room.

The anger was building as I listened closely to the conversation going on in my father's study, keeping watch for Esme so she would not find me eavesdropping.

Jacob had arrived this morning just as I was about to leave for my morning errands with a serious look on his face, asking immediately to see my father. I knew it had to be something important and I worried that it had to do with his father. So I decided that I would listen to be sure everything was fine. I did not expect what I heard.

Apparently, he had come to formally inform my father of his intention to marry me, and now they were speaking of dowries and time frames. It sounded as if they were bartering over one of his sheep.

I heard footsteps, and then too quickly the voice of my father was at the door to his office, assuring Jacob that I would be delighted by his proposal.

I had never known Charlie to be a liar.

I moved quickly out of sight but did not go far. I wanted to hear the rest of this conversation. Alas, it was not to be because I collided with Esme as soon as I rounded the corner to hide.

"Bella! There you are," she exclaimed and then paused, her voice full of suspicion. "Why are you lurking in the hall?"

When I did not answer she shook her head at me disapprovingly. "Come now; help me with the morning guests. Once Jacob leaves perhaps you can visit Alice before we all sit down for dinner."

It was not long before my father made his way behind the bar and beckoned me. I tried not to scowl at him when he told me that Jacob was waiting for me in the kitchen.

Was he to tell me now that he was going to marry me? Would he ask me as if I had a choice, or would he just tell me it had been decided? How could this man who had always been my dearest friend suddenly be so insistent on becoming my husband?

I must have looked ill because Esme grabbed my hand as I passed, squeezing it tightly in hers. I could not look at her; angry tears were threatening to fall. Rage coursed through me, and if I saw the plea that I knew was in her eyes, I would not be able to stop myself from weeping at my fate.

Once I made it into the kitchen, with a quiet polite hello directed at where Jacob sat, I began flitting about- cleaning and avoiding his stare.

Suddenly he was there beside me. "Come over here Bella, sit and talk with me. It seems like ages since your last visit."

His smiling face instantly calmed me. This was my friend Jacob with me now, not the one that I had heard with my father; maybe he had come to his senses. "Of course," I smiled back, finally able to relax a bit, "how have you and your father been? The new pup?"

"Great, great. And Seth is doing well; but he thinks he is grown and wants to run with the older dogs now." We laughed as he told me a story about some silliness among his dogs. One would have thought Jacob was the part of the pack, the way he spoke about those animals.

After more comforting conversation and my explanation of some of the extra work that filled my new- found free time, Jacob seem to tense a bit.

"So Bells, uh…" - Oh no, he is not going to do this now - "I was wondering if you would, I don't know," - he took a deep breath, and I felt as if I might pass out from holding mine - "accompany me to the upcoming fair? I would love to have the prettiest girl in town on my arm."

My head was spinning as I processed his question. "Oh," was all that I could respond for a moment, and then I knew my face must reddened from his compliment. Maybe he realized we were only friends and that he would want love, too. Perhaps he and my father had actually not come to an agreement. As everything began to come into focus again, I realized I had not answered his question.

The annual fair was just a simple town market day, a small showing of the town's fares followed by a night of games, drinking and general merriment. Most years, I was unable to attend because the inn would be quite busy with tired townspeople stopping in to rest their feet after a day in the busy crowds.

Taking my small smile and silence as a sign of reluctance, Jacob added, "Your father has said that you are free, that he and Esme have the inn covered - if you would like to join me." The last part sounded uncertain.

It would not be so bad to spend time with my friend.

"Yes, Jake. I love the fair. It will be a nice change to get to really enjoy it this year." I gave him my nicest smile, hoping he understood its friendly nature.

--

I tried to keep the conversation cheerful when I visited Alice but being the all-knowing person she was, she saw that I was distracted.

"Bella? What is wrong? There is something you are not telling me."

I shook my head. It seemed like all I talked about anymore was marriage and love and I did not want to start the conversation again. I just did not want to hear more reasons why I should be happy about Jacob and his impending marriage proposal.

Alice sighed and looked at me closely. "Please, Bella. I am many things but I am not a mind reader and you are most certainly distracted. Tell me. I am your friend, and whatever it is, I will be here for you."

She was right. What else are good friend for but to help you work through these types of things? There was always a chance that she would agree with me about love and marriage and happiness. Possibly I was not the only one who lived in a fantasy world.

Possibly.

"Well, I guess there is something…" Alice just impatiently waved me to continue. "Jacob has told my father he plans to marry me." The statement held a very clear note of disdain that Alice would no doubt pick up on.

An odd look of confusion came over and her gaze seemed to grow distant as if searching for something behind me. Just as quickly as the look appeared it was gone and her face became serious. Carefully, she asked, "Did you say that you would marry him? Has an agreement been reached?"

"No! He has not asked – or even told – me of his intentions yet, only my father."

She seemed relieved, as if I had not just told her I would be forcibly betrothed to my best friend. "Oh, Bella, do not fret. Everything will work out. We have spoken of this before. Love will find you, you can't doubt that."

I tried to explain to Alice why I felt hopeless, relaying the story of the viscount and his servant, not wanting to give away Esme's secret but wanting her to understand why I could not just believe in love.

She never relented, not through the sad tale nor my careful recount of the conversation with Esme about being taken care of. She only sighed and shook her head. "You are not Esme or this servant, Bella. You are different than they. You are going to find what you are looking for – and more if I am not mistaken." Her confident smile played on her face as if she knew something that she could not possibly know.

--

Finally taking leave of Alice after some less serious conversation and a promise to visit again soon, I began the short journey home. It was later than I had meant to be out, and I knew Esme and my father would be waiting on me. I considered running but decide that darkness would be much less dangerous than the inevitable fall that would come with the rush. Dinner could wait for a few extra minutes.

The road was quiet, only the sounds of the night around me, the rising moon illuminating the road. As I walked the familiar path I took the time to think on what Alice and I had discussed.

I really wanted to have her optimism about my future. Yet I could not help but think she felt that way because she had obviously found her love and could have a life with him, unlike poor Esme. She was not being forced into marriage.

I was snapped from my thoughts by the boisterous sound of a group of men ahead of me. Sparing them little thought, I continued with my musings about family and love, only hoping that we would not cross paths – though fortune is rarely on my side.

As they approached I counted four men. I continued walking at a steady pace, head down as to not draw attention to myself, but it was too late for that. They had clearly noticed me.

"Hey little lass, dreadfully late to be wandering these dark roads all alone, is it not?" one of the men slurred. The group halted their movement in front of me, preventing me from going any further. "What do you think gents, should we walk her home so she won't run into any scoundrels?" They laughed menacingly.

I still did not look at them but noticed that they seemed to be moving around me. I knew it would be useless to scream this far from town. One of them, the one who had been talking, moved toward me. I took a quick step back- ready to run, but two giant hands clasped my shoulders from behind. I gasped as the one in front of me grabbed my chin, tilting it up so that I was looking into his face.

"Pretty little thing, aren't you? Bet you have a big strong husband waiting for you at home. Too bad he doesn't keep a better watch on you. Maybe I should take you home with me. I know how to care of a girl like you." His breath was hot and smelled strongly of liquor and decay as he continued to pull me closer to him. I kept my eyes closed firmly as I struggled in vain to free myself but it just caused them all to laugh and his grip on my face to tighten.

He turned my head roughly to the side and spoke loudly into the side of my face. "Now, now, be a good girl. We wouldn't want you to get hurt, now would we, beautiful?" I whimpered as I felt his hot spittle on my cheek, his mouth so close to my face that a small movement for either of us would cause contact.

Not for a moment believing that I would come out of this unscathed, I fought against him, and the other man who was restraining me only tightened his grip. My entire body shook with fear.

As the certainty set in that I could not escape the brutes, the only sounds I could hear were the pounding of my own heart and the heavy breathing of my captor. I did not hear the approach of the horse or the shouts that were going on around me as I was released and collapsed to the ground in a heap.

"Go!" a voice threatened. Still too terrified to open my eyes, I could only hear the quick retreat of several pairs of feet as I tried to catch my breath. Then I felt arms around my waist as I was lifted from the ground to my shaky legs in one quick motion. Fearing that I was saved from the ruffians by another who intended me harm, I fought against him, but to no avail.

"Shh, calm down," a soft voice soothed. "I am not going to hurt you," this man whispered to me, his sweet breath unmarred by alcohol. I could feel myself trembling in his arms, but stopped fighting the embrace. "They are gone and will not come back." His strong voice comforted me and I felt curiously safe in this stranger's arms, alone in the dark of night.

I tried to compose myself as best I could; he released me once my breathing had returned to normal. My weak knees crumbled, and I melted gently to the ground. From there, I attempted to look at my savior while he paced in front of me, appearing as if he was arguing with himself.

I could not see his features in the dark of the night except that he wore a mask and old riding clothes. Was this the highwayman that that the patrons spoke of, the rogue that was causing so much trouble? What else could explain the mask he wore?

"T-thank you," was my lame response to him once I found my tongue.

He stopped almost mid step and turned to me as if just remembering my presence. His look was not friendly. "Yes, good thing I had been near by! Honestly, what are you thinking being out this far from town in the dark of night?" He sounded as if he were chiding a small child for mischief.

The shock of the would-be assault was wearing away and was being replaced by my annoyance of being reprimanded by this stranger as if he were my keeper – which he most certainly was not!

I held my tongue but and rose to my feet, deciding it was best to take leave of my rescuer before I said something that would be construed as ungrateful; it would be rude, and I truly was thankful of him. I only nodded and turned to resume my walk towards the inn.

I listened carefully as I walked away. There was little noise besides the sounds of the evening before I heard the sound of the horse's hooves. I could not tell which direction they were headed, but was strangely sad that he was leaving without another word, although I had attempted the same thing.

Before I could think on it too much the sounds were behind me and then just as quickly beside me. "Please, Bella," his voice was remorseful now, "let me take you home. It will be much quicker, and then I can be content knowing that you have arrived home safely."

I turned to see him – he rode some paces in front of me not realizing my hesitation – when he turned to face me I could see his dark eyes in the moonlight imploring me to take his offer. I was not afraid of him, nor did the anger that had been there moments before linger. I wanted to take his offer and knew that I would. He had saved me and it was only getting later, so I needed to get home quickly.

After a long pause, I sighed. "Yes, thank you," I said as I walked to his side. He reached a hand down to me and I expected a struggle to mount the horse. I had very little experience on horses and was not sure that I would even be able to get on without falling or worse, but he pulled me up almost effortlessly in front of him, securing his arm around my waist and his head beside mine so he could see the way.

Without much conversation we set off towards town, settling into a comfortable silence. I tried not to think of the feel of his warm body pressed against my back and sound of his breathing in the quiet of the night.

Perhaps while not thinking on these things, it suddenly occurred to me that this stranger had known my name, and while it did not scare me as it might have, I was still curious.

"Sir, I am wondering on how you came to know my name."

"This is a very small town; it is not so extraordinary that I would know who you are," his answer was arrogant, and I believe he must have felt me tense because he sighed.

In a much more pleasant tone he started again, "And, I must admit, I have been...hoping to speak with you. I know you do many good works in the village, and I wanted to discuss an arrangement of sorts. I would like to help."

I was not expecting this. He wanted to help with the charities of the town? If he was the highwayman, did he fancy himself a Robin Hood of sorts? Taking from the rich to help the poor?

Without thinking, I knew I would hear him out; I wanted to know what he was offering.

"If you can, meet me here," I looked around and realized we were at the edge of town, not too far from my home, "at midnight or as soon after as you are free. I would like to take you somewhere and…speak about how I may be able to assist you."

He sounded genuine in his request; it held no hint of malice. He had saved me tonight. It was not a small favor he had done me, but would I be safe at the dead of night with this man who I knew nothing about except that he was a possible thief? And my savior.

He slid effortlessly from behind me, giving me his hand to help me down. Just the feel of my hand in his and the way my body already missed his warmth, I knew I would meet him when he asked. I knew I could trust him somehow; I knew without understanding why that I was drawn to this man and that I would be safe with him.

I looked up from the ground to meet his eyes; they implored me to say yes. I knew my answer but I continued to look at him, trying to understand what it was about him. I did not consider myself naive, but the unconditional trust I felt was unnerving.

"I will. As soon as I can get away I will be here. Thank you again, Sir."

With a small nod and a breathtaking smile he waved me on and I turned and ran, praying that I would stay upright, to the inn, making my way to the kitchen door.

As I had anticipated, my father and Esme were waiting for me at the table, both looking expectant as I took my bonnet off and made my way to my seat as everything was already on the table.

"I am very sorry, Father, Esme, I lost track of the hour." I decided that there was no reason to worry them about the almost attack. It had been prevented and no real harm had come to me, nor would I mention my knight. Like in fairy tales, my knight in shining armor…I chastised myself for entertaining such silly thoughts.

The conversation was normal for my father. He talked of the things that needed to be done around the inn and of the number of guests that we currently had. I found myself drifting in and out of the conversation, my mind wandering to the highwayman – because I decided that this is who he must be – and how our meeting might go.

"…ask you to the fair. Did he get around to it while he was here today?" I caught the last of my father's question and tried to act as if I knew he was speaking to me all along.

I smiled, "Yes, I told him that I would like to go to the fair. He plans to come around that morning for breakfast before we join the crowds."

"Good, good. He is a good man; I will be happy to call him my son."

There was no use in trying to hide my anger. "Father, Jacob Black is my friend. I am not going to marry…"

"Isabella, you will not tell me who you will not marry…" he started in a very stern and angry tone before Esme interrupted him.

"Now, Bella," she looked at me in a way that told me she thought I was being childish, "if not Jacob, then who? You are of marrying age and need to be reasonable. Who else could be a possible suitor? What about the smithy?"

"Mr. McCarthy?" I was stunned she even offered a different option, though this one was no better. Nor would my father hear of it anyway.

"McCarthy? The big Irish fellow?" he was shaking his head. "No, definitely not, besides, I believe Merry, the shopkeeper's daughter, is promised to him. She's a pretty little thing, Merry, and a good girl. I imagine she wasn't one to argue with her father over his choice of suitor for her." He looked at me pointedly.

"And there is nothing wrong with Jacob. His family is well respected, and his father is a good friend to me. Bella, you should be proud that he wants to be your husband." He looked as if there was nothing more to discuss. I knew that quarreling would only cause more distress to both of us than anything, so I looked away and said nothing. I would not agree with him about Jacob, but I would not argue the point any further tonight.

As I helped clean the kitchen and ready it for morning, I could only think of my meeting. Stealing away should not be difficult after my father and Esme retired for the evening. I found myself anxious see him again, curious to the arrangement he spoke of for the children, but mostly just longing to be near him, to know who he was, and to understand why I was drawn to him so.

Midnight could not come soon enough.

-----

**Edward**

I paced back and forth, over the uneven ground, kicking at clumps of dirt and the odd stone. Every sound made me prick my ears: every stick snap, and every gust of wind. I waited for her, to see if she would come to me. After our meeting this evening, I was sure she would be here. I pulled out my pocket watch, running my finger over the scratched surface of the glass. This had been my father's and his father's before him. Anthony had carried it most recently, and after his funeral, Carlisle had taken me aside. He had pressed the watch into my hand, his own hand trembling as he spoke.

"This is yours now, Edward. Take care; it has been in our family a very long time. Your grandfather would be very proud of the man you have become, as am I."

As I cupped my hands around the timepiece, he moved his hand to my shoulder, clasping it there.

I cleared my throat, stalling, unable to respond. After a few moments I nodded, taking a deep breath.

That seemed to be enough of an answer for him and he moved away from me slowly The effort it cost him to take the steps was evident in his posture. I slipped the watch into my pocket, the chain still tangled in my fingers. The lingering warmth from my father's hand surprised me, and I curled the watch into my palm, holding it, measuring its weight. It was heavy, for a pocket watch, a material reminder of my new responsibilities.

I glanced around, hoping to see her step out of the dark and release me from this anxiety. The rush from my earlier prize was starting to wind down and my head felt much clearer. Ruminating on my first successful attempt, I congratulated myself on my success. There had been many false starts where I had lay in wait, and watched the coach pass without making a move. So many things ran through my head, the possibility of being caught was not the least of my worries, but there were others. Being recognized by someone in the peerage was always a risk, but as those would make the most profitable victims, I could not pass up such a chance. The sooner I had our debts paid off, the sooner I could end this.

My nerves were tingling, as I had waited for my quarry. I could hear the rumble of the carriage's wheels and the rhythmic beat of the horses hooves. Darkness had enveloped me, but once the coach was within distance, I moved out from the tree cover and into the middle of the road.

I cocked my pistol, holding it aloft and shouted out, "Stand and deliver." The driver had cowered in his seat as I rode nearer. There was a rustling sound inside the carriage and I suddenly worried then that there would be an armed passenger waiting for me. When I stepped to the door, peering inside I saw only an older woman, her eyes wide in fear.

"Your jewels, Ma'am and any monies you have on your person." I realized too late that my way of speaking was very formal for a brigand, and lowering my voice, I demanded roughly, "now, no dawdling."

As she stuttered out her response it dawned on me just who she was. Lady Cope, wife of a Baron. He was a friend of my father's, and they had both been at the funeral just weeks ago. I prayed that her fear would prevent her from recognizing me, panicking now that the mask I wore was not enough to prevent recognition.

I watched as she flushed, her breathing becoming heavy. She quickly gathered up her valuables and shoved them towards me in her silk bag. The bag clanked heavily into my palm and I pulled away, hearing her voice behind me as I moved to leave.

"Oh, my. So handsome."

I smirked as I rode away, relieved that she hadn't realized who I was. The night had saved me, I would have to keep that in mind from now on and avoid particularly clear nights when the moonlight would be strong.

I became enraged when I came upon the men that were harassing Bella. Why she was walking alone on the road so late was a mystery, but I didn't dwell on it. I just reacted, startling them and causing them to run. I had wanted to immediately pull her up on the horse with me and ride away quickly. Instead I slid to the ground, picking her up, setting her to rights. She had been stunned, speechless standing there in the road looking so vulnerable,and I had to look away from her, walk away from her to avoid shaking her for putting herself in such a place. My harsh reprimand was not well received, though. Shejust looked at me, eyes blazing before she turned toward the town. My heart pounded as I watched her go, and I could not just allow her to walk away. I rushed after her, and she agreed to ride with me.

Pulling her up to sit astride in front of me, I reveled in the feel of her against my chest. She shook in my arms. The reality of the danger she put herself must have been setting in. I thought only of getting her to safety for now, but pondered going back and torturing those men for what they were planning on doing to her. I asked her to meet me, offering the charity as a reason, but in reality I merely wanted to see her again. She had hesitated before answering, and I thought she would refuse but she did not. I did not know why, only that I was very thankful she had not refused.

My heart was racing again, just thinking of what could have happened to her if I hadn't come along. I hoped she would be safe on her way to our meeting spot. If she was able to meet me.

My horse was getting restless, and I turned to soothe her when I heard footsteps. Bella called out softly through the dark.

"Hello?"

She had come. I smiled to myself before stepping out to meet her.

"Oh." She squeaked in surprise when I moved in front of her, jumping back and almost falling backwards into the brambles. I grabbed her hand, pulling her to me.

"You are quite reckless, you know?" My hands lingered on her soft skin, unwilling to let go now that she was here.

She giggled, blushing. "I do not mean to be, Sir. But it is my lot in life to be ungraceful."

I thought her very graceful, but withheld my comment. It wouldn't do to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Shall we go then? I thought it might be better for us to talk somewhere where our chance of being discovered would be less."

She looked down, probably debating over the safety of going somewhere alone with me. I hoped her penchant for ignoring her own safety worked to my advantage this time.

Mounting my horse, I extended my hand down to her. After a moments hesitation she placed her tiny hand in mine and I pulled her up in front of me. She settled in against my chest and I wrapped arm around her waist, holding her steady. Inhaling her delicate fragrance, I turned the horse away from town. I avoided the road, riding through the forested areas when I could. Soon the silhouette of the abbey showed dark against the cloudy sky.

The abbey had been abandoned after a disastrous fire burnt most of the buildings to the ground. My family had built the church in town, and with the religious upheaval that tore the country apart, no one saw fit to rebuild. I had played here as a child, scouring the grounds for "artifacts", Anthony and I pretending to be Crusaders riding to free the Holy Land.

We dismounted near the crumbling walls of the church, leaving the horse behind as we walked to a place where the glow of the moon lit our faces. I paused, worrying that my reason for asking her here was a flimsy excuse at best. She would see through my plan and know that I wanted only to get her alone.

Her head was down, her eyes on her feet as we walked and when I put my hand on her arm, she looked up questioningly.

"I wanted to offer you my assistance. I know that you give aid to the poorer families in town and would like to give you money to help them. It may not be a lot but whatever I can spare is yours."

"That is very kind of you, but I would hate to take anything away from your own family. Surely you need it as well."

"I want to help you."

She smiled up at me, her face glowing in the half light.

"Thank you. That is very kind of you."

"I am not known as a kind man, but I want to be. Seeing the work you do makes me want to do good for others as you do. You are the kind one."

Kind. Lovely. Tender. And so soft. I couldn't help myself as I pulled her closer to me, sliding my hands up her arms to her shoulders. Her breathing picked up, and her lips parted tempting me beyond control. I stared down at her, looking for signs that she was scared of me. But when her eyes grew heavy and she pressed herself to my side I knew that wasn't the case. My hands went to her waist, smoothing over her hips and digging into the coarse fabric of her skirt, pulling her flat against the length of my body, her full high breasts pressed tight against the front of my jacket, her skirts enveloping me.

Her face glowed like opals in the light- her plush lips a deep pink, her eyes so dark as to seem bottomless. I stared at her mouth intently, noticing how her lips parted slightly, and her tiny pink tongue darted out moistening her top lip nervously. I let out a deep sigh, overwhelmed with the urge to possess her and lowered my head, brushing my lips against hers. She whimpered, a small sound, but it had a large effect on a certain part of my anatomy. Pressed against me as she was, I knew she must be able to be able to feel it but I was not going to let her go. Not now, not that I finally had her in my arms, warm and willing.

Her hands had been clasped on my forearms but now began a slow exploration up my back and into my hair. When her short nails scratched at my scalp, I moaned and clasped her even tighter. Our lips and tongues tangled, her breath sweet in my mouth as she panted. She pulled away, clutching her hand to her bodice and breathing fast.

"I feel faint. I need...I need to sit." She wobbled, her head turning to look for somewhere to sit.

I led her over to a place where the stone wall had crumbled to a height easy to sit on. She perched on the edge, and tried to calm her breathing. I crouched down in front of her, my hands moving to her stays.

She squeaked. "What are you doing?" Her hands moved to mine, pressing them away from her body.

"I'm loosening your stays so that you can breathe more freely. Now move your hands." She hesitated, wanting to argue I am sure, but I didn't allow her to continue.

Once her stays were loosened, she was breathing with more regularity but still quite heavily. Her cheeks and throat were flushed a lovely color, and I drew my fingers up from her neckline to her jaw, caressing her skin. She shivered and whimpered again. My eyes darted from her decolletage to her face.

"Are you all right?" I watched her face, hoping she wouldn't faint here. The scenario for getting her home would be made infinitely more difficult.

"It's just that when you did that, when you touched me, I felt, I am not sure, I felt so hot and dizzy, like all the air had been swept out of my body."

I let my fingers skim along her cheek and her eyelids fluttered closed. "There it is again. Do you think I may be ill?"

I chuckled, "No, I don't believe you are ill." My shoulders shook in repressed laughter. "I believe what you are feeling is entirely healthy." The smirk that spread across my face was unavoidable.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide in confusion. "What ever do you mean? Healthy? For me to feel faint?"

"Yes, you were becoming aroused, a completely normal sensation- albeit shocking if you haven't felt that way before."

"Oh." She looked puzzled still, confused. I leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against her mouth.

"See, you will be fine. I am here; I won't let anything happen to you." I would sincerely try to keep my word.

She just looked at me, mouth still open, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy.

It was then that I recognized my proximity to breasts, under her shift, which was now in disarray after my efforts on her stays. I tried to look anywhere else, but it was impossible. I knelt in front of her, rising from my crouched position and pulled her against me again, covering her mouth with mine aggressively. She melted into the embrace, wrapping her arms around my neck. This pushed her breasts even tighter against me, and I lamented my choice of jacket, a heavy velvet, one that prevented me from really feeling her on my chest. Instead my hands, which had been resting at her waist slid up her bodice and slipped inside the loose neckline of her shift. I groaned as my palms cupped her breasts, my thumbs brushing the puckered tips ever so lightly. She whimpered, pulling back again.

"Are you sure I am not going to faint? I am quite sure I will." She said, breathlessly.

I nodded wordlessly, dragging my lips down her throat to the hollow at the base, where I licked and nipped at her skin before moving to her collarbone. So delicate she was, lush but very delicate. When I reached the silky curve of her breasts, she gasped and pulled on my neck effectively smothering me.

"I'm so sorry, I just...oh." She trailed off when captured one rosy tip with my teeth, pulling it into the heated interior of my mouth. I played with her, alternating flicking my tongue over the hard nub and tracing circles around it before releasing it and moving to the other. The cold air on her skin tightened it even further and I covered it with my palm, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. I was so intent on my work, that I hadn't noticed her legs fall open around me and her head fall back. She was panting now, making small noises, whimpers and moans as I played with her. I had gotten painfully hard, feeling her against me, and reached down to adjust myself. When my hand brushed against her skirts, she squealed, pulling away.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you. I merely was attending to myself momentarily." I motioned to the front of my breeches, where I had a not inconsiderable bulge.

She looked from my face to my breeches and back again, her eyes wide in astonishment.

"But it's so big!" Her hand reached out towards me automatically, her fingertips brushing lightly on my hard length. She startled when I groaned. "Did I hurt you?"

"God, no." I replied huskily. I coughed, clearing my throat. "No, I am fine. It would take much more pressure than that to hurt me." Or to help me, but I wasn't sure I wanted her hands on me, I didn't think I could control myself. And I didn't want to let go, lose control with her. As much as I desired her, I could never hurt her and taking her maidenhead in a desolate abbey with no intention of marriage would be the worst kind of hurt for a girl in her position. Esme's words echoed in my head, warning me. I had gone too far already, let myself do too much. I resolved to extricate myself and take her safely home, when I felt her hand close over my cock and squeeze.

"Oh dear god." My throat closed and I could hardly breathe as she worked up and down my length, covered as it was in my velvet breeches.

"Is this right?" She whispered after a moment of clumsily sliding her fingers up and down. I covered her hand in mine, pressing harder and controlling her speed before nodding. I buried my face in her breasts again, inhaling her sweet fragrance as I focused on the feeling of her small, capable hands that were now quickly bringing me to release. She was focused, her tongue peeking out the corner of her lips, muttering to herself. I thought I heard her say something about it being just like milking, but I couldn't bring myself to care. The fantasy of her in my bed, naked and spread on top of me floated in front of my closed eyes and I groaned as the image combined with her ministrations pushed me over the edge. I tensed in anticipation, and shuddered as she continued to squeeze every last drop from me. My head fell to her shoulder, resting there as I regained control of my faculties. I grabbed her hands in mine, stilling them, holding them as I frantically tried to think of what to say to her. She looked at her hands, clasped as they were in my lap before looking back up at me.

"So, what I did didn't hurt you, then?" There was no coyness in her gaze, no gloating, just innocent questioning.

"No. In fact it felt quite good. Thank you." I replied stiffly, still unsure how to handle this situation.

She twisted her hands together, her mouth opening as if to speak, before closing with a snap.

I reached for her chin and tilted her face to mine. "Did you have a question?"

She nodded before looking away again. "It's just, if you felt something good, can I, I mean, could I feel something like that? Well, not that specifically I mean. But is there something like that for a girl?"

I took a deep breath, I could give her that. It wouldn't have to go any farther; she would remain a virgin. My hands were tingling, restless to get under her skirts.

"There is something I could do. Would you like me to do that?"

She nodded, our eyes locked.

My hands moved to her skirts, rearranging them so that I could slide my hands underneath without her legs getting cold. I held her feet for a moment, reveling in their smallness, before ghosting up her calves and knees stopping at the top of her stockings. They were heavy practical wool held up with simple ties. I let the knots out, sliding the fabric down her legs. Her skin was warm and I let my palms drag up the length of them, resting at the inside of her thighs, her heat burning even inches away. She was trembling, and I took one breast in my mouth again, softly teasing her nipple. Her breathy sigh in my ear was an affirmation and I continued my exploration below. When my fingers reached her curls, she sighed again, whining a little and pulling back from me. I pulled my left hand from her skirts and wrapped it around her waist, holding her to me as I lavished attention on her breasts.

I brushed her wetness, using one finger to separate her nether lips, seeking out the bud of her pleasure. When I found it, rubbing it gently at first then harder, she started moaning continuously. Sliding down to her opening, I circled it before dipping in. Her wet warmth surrounded my finger and I thought I would climax again, just imagining myself inside her. Adding another finger I began a slow rhythm of in and out while rubbing her nub with my thumb. She squirmed in my arms, trying for some different position and I tried to accommodate her, but she wouldn't settle. I moved us, shifting to the ground both on our sides facing one another. She rolled closer to me when I went back to her breasts.

Resuming my rhythm under her skirts, I placed one leg between hers, intertwining our whole bodies. It took a few changes, different touches to find what elicited the right response from her. But she was now responding, her hips rocking faster and her breathing was very shallow as she built up to her release.

She was whimpering and crying out, "Oh," right before she shattered in my arms, shaking violently as the tremors ran through her. When she had stopped trembling she opened her eyes, and looked at me with amazement. I kissed her soft lips and fixed her skirts, tying her stays as well. I didn't know what to say to her, so I stayed silent. She did the same, smoothing her bodice and skirts before moving to stand. I stood and reached down for her, helping her to her feet. We were awkward now, both of us feeling vulnerable after our experiences.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No need to thank me. You are beautiful and any man would be lucky to spend time with you." I hoped I hadn't made her sound like a whore.

She just blushed at the compliment and followed me back to my horse.

"I will meet you to deliver the money to you every fortnight. We can come here if that is acceptable to you." I was referring to the donation, the money for the charity but I believe she thought I meant to pay her for what happened tonight, "Your work with the orphans is quite generous."

She relaxed upon realizing what I had meant. "Thank you, the children bring me a great deal of joy. Every day with them is a blessing. They will much appreciate the food and clothes the money could help provide."

"Good. I know you will do the most good with it, so I will trust it to be well managed." I swung up on my horse, pulling her up a moment later and spurred on towards town. Her hair was dishevelled as were her clothes and a few long strands blew back from her head, curling around my chin, swirling the scent under my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, losing myself in the light fragrance she had, memorizing it. She burrowed herself back into my chest, shivering in the wind as we raced home.

I knew the wait until our next meeting time would seem endless.

* * *

**AC: Wow, Bella is one daring girl!**

AN: Like you wouldn't have done the same thing? But what a gentleman our Edward is, returning the favor.

**AC: Such good manners!**

AN: And how romantic. A make-out in moonlit ruins? Sigh.

**AC: Yeah, better than making out by the backdoor. cough*Carlisle and Esme*cough**

AN: He couldn't be unoriginal. Plus, you don't want to overdo the backdoor action.

**AC: GOD NO. That would be painful and could cause permanent...oh, yeah, painfully boring. Yeah, that's it.**

AN: What's up next? A fair you say?

**AC: I wonder if Jacob will win her a stuffed animal. A wolf maybe.**

AN: I hope she wins a trip on the Highwayman ride!

**AC: A girl can dream...and oh she will!**


	7. Chapter 6

**So, here we are again! We want to apologize for the length of time between updates and to say thank you to everyone that is still reading and sending us happy thoughts and just you all have to know, you guys are AWESOME! We are super psyched to be writing again and just couldn't wait to have our beta read through this first. She's amazing and I am a lunatic but I just couldn't wait! We hope you guys like and let us know what you think!**

**Also, The Indie Twific Awards are coming up, check them out and nominate some of your favorite indie stories! **

http://theindietwificawards[dot]com/default[dot]aspx

**And the Bellies Summer Awards are open as well!**

http://www[dot]thecatt[dot]net/tw/default[dot]aspx

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* * *

****Last time on The Highwayman...**

**Bells overhears Jacob telling Charlie about his plans to marry her**

**Jacob asks her to the town fair**

**Bella runs into some bad guys on her way home from Alice's....and is saved by a mysterious highwayman (aka Edward in a mask...yum!)**

**Edward had a an eventful first day as a highwayman...ah, Lady Cope**

**Then securing a midnight rendezvous with the fair Bella to offer her help in her work...**

**followed by some not so innocent fun for the two... **

**BPOV**

I could have been floating the days after the tryst with my mysterious highwayman. I tried not to think of the length of time until I might see him again but it was not working very well.

Each evening I would retreat to my room and think of the feel of his mouth on me – my lips, my neck, my chest. And then in the night, in my dreams, the thoughts would shift from his mouth to his hands and the way he made me feel.

I knew that what had happened in the abbey was not proper, not something an unmarried woman should engage in, but I could not bring myself to be ashamed. I had touched him – if only through his clothing – and made him feel good. Just that was enough but then what he gave me has no comparison; I was not aware that there was anything that could have felt quite like that.

At times, when I was not being selfish, I would think of the help he was offering to the town's people. The donation would bring so much joy to the children of the orphanage and the church. So much good would be done.

These were the things running through my mind as I made my way through the days; as I helped Esme prepare breakfast and lunch, as I visited the children and my neighbors, and as I waited on the patrons of the inn.

"Ay, girl, another," one of these patrons brought me back to my senses with his annoying bellow.

It was busy and I should not be losing myself in my thoughts. The inn was full up with visitors for the approaching fair as well a small regiment of soldiers that were in town.

This was a concern.

From what I could gather they were here in pursuit of my highwayman. I hoped that he knew of their presence; I wished I had a way to warn him if he did not. I could only listen to their talk as they unwound from their daily vigilance over supper to know that they were no closer to catching him than the day before.

As I was walking back to the bar to retrieve the gentleman's drink I felt a large hot hand wrap around my wrist tightly and pull me around. I came face to face with one of the soldiers; something in his presence left me with no doubt he was the leader of this particular regiment.

This was nothing that had not happened before, nor would it be the last time so I braced myself for whatever flirting the Captain had planned and then I could walk away and return to my duties. The soldiers were often the worst; they seemed to feel as if their station gave them leave to act as they please. And I was only a serving girl after all.

The soldier's other hand wrapped around my waist, a little more familiar than even the most bold of the soldiers. He leered down at me, the smile on his face unnerving, giving me the feeling of being the meal instead of just serving it. He took a deep breath as if memorizing my scent and then released me without warning. This, of course, caused me to stumble back ungracefully.

"Careful girl wouldn't want you to fall on that pretty little behind," he laughed and the soldiers that were standing behind him snickered as well. He cleared his throat and the other men became silent. His cold gray eyes continued to look me up and down and I resisted the urge to flee, though his stare was infinitely more menacing than the crassest of patron I had ever put up with.

When I said nothing nor moved away he seemed to tire of the standoff and with a wave of his hand dismissed me with a final order, "My men and I would like some supper and your finest ale."

As I made my way to the kitchen I hoped that they were not celebrating any success in their hunt for my highwayman and only indulging themselves as they so often did.

--

Jacob had sent word that he would arrive to take me to the fair directly after breakfast, hearing that there were many specialty merchants that he would like to have time to visit. I must admit, I was excited to be going to the fair this year; I had heard many wonderful stories of the beautiful treasures to be seen from both the local and visiting merchants and could not wait to see for myself.

"Oh, Bella, you do seem excited," Esme smiled at me from the stove as she prepared the morning meal. "Looking forward to your day with Jacob?"

With a sigh, I decided to make no comment on my escort for the day, "I am very pleased to be able to attend, I have heard so much of the fair throughout the years but my father has always needed me to be here for the rush.

I do feel guilty though, Esme. Are you sure that you would not rather I stay? I do not wish to leave you and Father without help."

She scoffed, "No, your father and I are perfectly capable of taking care of things while you have some fun. You deserve some time to enjoy yourself with people your own age!"

As soon as everything was prepared for breakfast she shooed me from the room to ready myself for the day.

By myself in my room my thoughts drifted. I wondered what my highwayman was doing. Did he get to do things like enjoy the market or did he hide away during the day? He wore a mask so he should have little worry of someone recognizing him I would think but I am sure that he would still be cautious, especially with the current military presence in town. I only hoped he was not lonely.

I finished dressing and made my way into the kitchen to help Esme while I waited. Just as I was putting on my apron, Jacob's booming voice at the back door startled me.

"Come now, Bella, I know you didn't forget about the fair, take that silly apron off!"

Startled, I turned to see him opening the door and walking towards me. A huge smile was on his face as he made his way over to me and I could not help but return it. I prepared myself for the bear hug that normally came with his greeting but he did not seem intent on the embrace today. He seemed hesitant and this made me nervous.

I had known Jacob all of my life and I could not remember a time when he did not greet me this way. Did he not see how silly his intentions were when he could not even treat me as his friend any longer? Why did he feel like we should be different than we ever were? I just wanted my best friend, not this awkward man who wanted to court me as if I were some stranger.

My smile faltered as he stood there as if he had never seen me before. Suddenly realizing that he should move or say something Jacob grabbed my hand in his and sighed.

"You look lovely today Miss Swan. I will be the most envied man in town," he winked at me. I would have once thought him ridiculous and just rolled my eyes at him, but this new Jacob was making me uncomfortable.

I waited a moment for him to release my hand but when he did not I pulled away. He looked hurt for a moment until I began to take off the apron I had just secured. I smiled tightly at him; while I did not wish to encourage his behavior I also did not mean to hurt him either.

As soon as I placed the apron on the hook by the door he offered me his arm, which I took graciously, and lead the way to the front of the inn to say good bye to my father.

I offered once more to stay and help serve the customers in the already very busy bar but was glared at harshly and told to have fun as Esme pushed us out the front door.

As we began the short walk to the market, Jacob dropped his arm and took my hand. His palm was hot, wrapped around mine and his grip was tight. I wondered idly if he was afraid I would run from him if he didn't keep me restrained. I was not sure if I would or not.

Trying to ignore the tension between us I began rambling about this and that but Jacob would not relent. His grip never loosened and he seemed ill at ease as we walked. I began to worry what he was afraid of, what he might have planned to say to me today.

Would he tell me now, in the crowds of people, that he wanted to marry me? Was it possible that he knew I would not be happy about his plans? If he knew me at all I would think that he would see how this would not be something I would want. But then, if he realized that, he would not have even had the conversation with Father.

As we neared our destination I could not take it any longer and stopped walking. Jake was paying so little attention that he just about pulled me over when he did not come to a stop as well.

"What is it Bella? Did you forget something?" He looked at me as if he only just remembered my presence.

I pulled away from him and huffed. I did not know if I wanted to start this conversation, but I knew I did not have any desire to spend the day being pulled along as if I were some sort of accessory. I knew that I needed to approach this in such a way that nothing of marriage or love was brought up.

"Jake, how long have we known each other?"

His brow pulled together in confusion but I did not wait for a response. "For a long time! And today you are treating me like we have only just met." I crossed my arms in front of me like a petulant child.

"Bella," he said after a moment, "I just wanted today to be special. I wanted to talk to you about something I have been thinking about…about our rela-."

I cut him off before he could say what I was afraid of hearing, "No, I wanted to spend the day with my friend. I wanted us to be Jake and Bella and enjoy the fair. I did not agree to be dragged through the streets all day."

He looked down for a time and when he finally looked back up at me with a big smile, my smile, and shook his head, I knew I had won, for now at least.

"Sure, sure," he said and grabbed my hand in his, this time lightly, and pulled me again towards the already gathering crowd.

All seemed to be normal as we visited the merchants. Jake and I laughed as we looked at the beautiful but useless baubles some sellers offered, trying to imagine what one would need such things for.

I tried to stay focused on my friend and the lovely day we were sharing but the crowds of people made me curious. Was one of these strangers that passed by my highwayman? Had he seen me and I not recognized him? I knew he would not have revealed himself to me in the crowds but I could not help but wonder if he was nearby.

After the third time Jacob asked me why I was looking into the crowd instead of at the wares I knew that I needed to stop thinking about him, at least until I was alone. I just was not sure that was possible.

Jacob had stopped to speak with a textile trader about his materials and the possibility of doing business with the Black farm. I had lingered behind browsing the carved wood items of another booth when I felt Jake's hand wrap around my wrist and pull me forward while telling me he must show me something. "It's perfect!"

"Jake!" I laughed at his enthusiasm, "Slow down! I am sure that whatever it is will not disappear if I were allowed to walk over."

Paying me no mind he continued his press until he pulled to a stop in front of a booth that held some beautifully crafted jewelry. At a glance I could see the detailed work put into the pieces that covered the table. I looked up at Jake, trying to understand his excitement when he wrenched the wrist in his hand up and slid on a rather large bracelet. He beamed down at me.

I examined the bracelet and had to smile when I saw the small, perfectly shaped dog dangling from it.

I heard a rather loud and hateful scoff from behind me, whirling around to see if this was meant for me only to see him, Mr. Edward Cullen. And he was most definitely laughing at me and the beautiful gift that Jacob had given me.

I was feeling indignant about his rudeness but when my eyes met his, a whole other feeling rushed through me. I was not sure why but I could only stare at him. I knew I must look stricken but I could not look away. My eyes drifted to his soft lips and suddenly I felt flush, my mind racing to my highwayman and his lips, lips that I could imagine being just like Edward's. I could almost feel them on my own.

I was jolted back to reality when he glared at me for a moment and he turned to his companion, the beautiful woman I had seen accompanying him at his brother's funeral, who seemed to have her full attention on the proprietor of the booth.

"Miss Hale, perhaps your father was right to keep you from the market; it does seem that some forget their place in these situations." His retort clearly aimed at me and my blatant staring. Though he could have been directing it toward the Smithy who was very engaged in the conversation with the lady.

I cast my gaze downward but still watch as they moved away from us. I could hear Jacob speaking beside me, completely unaware of the exchange that had happened between me and the Viscount's son.

"Miss Bella!" the familiar boisterous voice of Mr. McCarthy was in front of me. "I see that he gave you the bracelet. I told him I thought it would be quite large on you tiny arm, but he insisted it was perfect. I tried to sell him something much more delicate, a flower or even a knot, but he would not hear of it – still insisted a dog was perfect thing," he laughed and shrugged.

"Maybe you can drop by sometime and I can see about making a bit smaller so that you will not lose it; ya know, when you trip and fall into the pond or over that patch of air that seems to always be in the way" He laughed at his own joke.

I blushed but couldn't help but smile at him. I reminded myself he meant no harm and he was obviously quite proud of his work, and rightly so. It was all so beautiful. "That may be a good idea. But Jake was right; it is very much perfectly Jacob Black."

Jacob joined us and he and Emmett chatted some about his work. I continued looking at all the finely forged pieces when Jacob addressed me.

"So Bella, I was thinking…what do you think?" He held up a stunning and intricately designed Celtic-styled wall piece, "for the wedding?" he asked.

"W-wedding?" I stuttered. Did he mean the bracelet to be an engagement gift? Had I agreed to marry him by accepting it? I instantly felt ill.

I must have paled because Jake quickly handed the piece over to Emmett and placed a hand on my shoulder, bending down so he could look at my face. I gaped at him, trying to find words. I could not think of a way out of this without hurting his feelings. All I could really think of was my highwayman; I could not be his if I were actually betrothed to Jacob.

"Wedding?" I finally managed again through my panic.

He nodded and started slowly, "Of course Bella, Charlie and Esme's wedding. I was thinking it would be a nice gift for them. I thought you were happy about your father marrying?" My father's wedding! Of course.

I quickly composed myself, feeling very foolish. "Yes, sorry, of course. I am very happy. And I think they would love it."

Jake and Emmett looked at me oddly but neither said anything else about my behavior.

Jacob paid Emmett for the piece which he kept for him so that Jake would not have the large package to carry. The men bantered for a short time about the things men banter about in polite company until Emmett made Jake promise to meet him at the gaming booths later for some fun and ale.

We spent the remainder of the day wondering through the crowds and stalls, trying to see everything the market had to offer. When we finally made our way to the gaming area, Mr. McCarthy was already waiting on Jacob, apparently ready to make good on some bet or another.

The ale flowed freely; even I partook in a couple of pints.

I watched as Emmett continued to ply Jacob with more and more spirits and their light hearted mocking became louder and more coarse with each drink. I did not realize how drunk they were until I watched as they staggered toward the strength challenges, the skill games too much for them in their current state.

The crowd around the men was growing as well, name-calling and jeers being shouted throughout. Not enjoying the push of the people I moved out of the way to a quieter place in the vicinity and realized that not only was my escort completely intoxicated, but the thought crossed my mind as I felt my eyes getting heavy that I may have also had a bit too much myself.

**EPOV**

The sunlight was filtering through the heavy draperies that surrounded my bed as I woke, tired after another night of riding. The roads had been quiet though and I hadn't found a suitable quarry in my search. I lay quietly, thinking about the week ahead. The town market day and fair was coming up, and during a visit to his bedside the day before, my father had mentioned that he would like me to ask Miss Hale to peruse the booths with me. Even now, in the grips of a seemingly never ending malaise he was trying to orchestrate my future.

Subtlety was never his strength.

She would make an excellent match, he had said offhandedly, while commenting on the prodigious dowry she would undoubtedly have as her father was anxious to marry her up. And while he focused on the financial benefits of marrying her, he never forgot to mention her physical assets as well. She had a figure many women hoped for, but few achieved. I wondered if he wasn't half in love with her himself, but when I commented on his attention to detail regarding Miss Hale, he coldly reminded me that his only concern now was my lack of attention. Most men would feel lucky to bed such a girl as her.

Not me, I had yearned to reply. But I held my tongue, knowing that finding a suitable bride, someone that would bear me many sons, would be first among my priorities as the next Viscount. My thoughts wandered back to that night in the moonlight with Bella, and my body reacted instantly. I groaned, rolling over, willing the swelling in my groin away to no avail. The memory of her scent on my fingers as I rode home, sated momentarily, was enough to leave me aching.

A knock at my door brought me up and out of my revelry.

"Sir?"

I adjusted myself covering my lap more completely before calling out. "You may enter."

The door opened slowly, and one of the young maids entered. She stood just inside the room, her head down and blushing as she stammered out her message.

"Lady Victoria wanted you to know that there may be some unexpected guests this afternoon, Sir."

I waited for her to continue, but it appeared that was the extent of her information.

"Is that all?" I asked sternly.

Good lord. She could have brought me my breakfast as well, if all she had was this to tell me.

She nodded but stayed, her mouth opening as if to add something.

"Send Newton in to help me dress then, if we are to have guests. And have him bring me up a tray from the kitchen. You might have done that yourself." I turned, waiting to hear the door close after her. When I didn't hear it, I looked back towards her. She had moved closer to me now and her hands were trembling as she opened my wardrobe.

"What are you doing?" I snapped at her.

"Sir, I was told to help you dress this morning as Mr. Newton has been sent on an errand for Lord Cullen."

Lovely. Did Victoria think i was so depraved or so simple as to be seduced by a frightened serving girl? As if I was so weak willed to fall for her plan.

"You may go, I can dress myself today. Go to the kitchens and bring me back my breakfast."

She sagged in relief, "Thank you, Sir. I will be back quickly."

"Just remember to knock," I reminded her, chuckling at her change in demeanor.

She blushed scarlet, nodding. "Of course, Sir."

Once the door had closed after her, I dressed quickly wondering all the while who the guests would be. If it was one of Victoria's friends there was no reason to alert me. Perhaps she had another match for me, a new girl to pair me with.

The morning passed quickly, with no sign of Victoria or my father. He had taken to spending whole days abed, and would not rise for any reason once he had made up his mind. I tried on many occasions to lure him to the library for a chess game, or to discuss a new book, but his illness was wearing on him and he was melancholy to the point of despair most days.

I spent my time going over recent developments with the tenants and reading some of my favorite books, whiling away the day in peace by myself. I missed the strict regimen of university and sought to discipline myself without the aid of professors and reading lists. I had plenty of time to spend, as isolated as I was here in the country. None of my acquaintances from school had felt it appropriate to remove themselves from their studies to make the trip out here. And while I would eagerly receive them and any knowledge of the classes I was now withdrawn from, there was little chance of it actually occurring. No sense in wasting time on wishing for someone to visit when I had things to worry about here and things to learn about here.

Everyday my father looked weaker and that meant that everyday I was closer to carrying the bulk of responsibility for the family. It was times like these that Anthony's absence seemed to grow, to assume it's own identity. As if his spirit walked the halls, flirting with the maids and teasing Father. His silly games never failed to make our father laugh, and that talent alone would have been immensely helpful. I never knew what to say to pull him out of his unhappiness, to engage him as Anthony had. I felt sometimes that when he looked at me he grew more withdrawn, and I could not get through to him no matter how i tried.

Shortly before tea there was a commotion in the entry and i heard horses out in the circle. I walked to the door, wondering who had arrived when Newton knocked and stepped into the room.

"Sir, there are soldiers here to speak with you and your father."

I strode into the entry, shocked to see the small group of men waiting for me. Fear flooded my body, causing me to panic for a moment before regaining control. The tallest man walked towards me, bowing and straightening quickly.

"Lord Cullen."

"Lord Cullen is my father, he is resting right now. What can I do for you?"

"Let me introduce myself, Sir. I am Captain James Cavill, of her majesty's army and we have been sent here to address the problem of highwaymen. There have been increasing numbers of attacks and we mean to put a stop to them." He appeared to be only pausing in his speech when his eyes flicked to the staircase behind me. He dropped into a deep bow, much deeper I noticed than the one he had performed for me.

"Edward, you didn't tell me we had guests. You should have taken them into the library to speak. I will have refreshments brought to you right away."

Why she was being so obsequious to mere soldiers I wasn't sure, but they didn't need to stay here any longer than they already had. Without turning to her, I replied.

"Victoria, this is Captain James Cavill, and he has been sent here to rid our county of the highwayman plaguing us. Captain, this is my father's wife, Victoria Cullen." I wasn't bothering with all her titles. She had been presumptuous in telling me how to handle guests in my own house. I saw out of the corner of my eye that she shot me a glare, before turning her sweetest smile back to the captain.

Flagrantly flirting with a soldier in my father's house. If my opinion of her could drop any further, it would. As it was, there was no room for depreciation.

"Well, they must be thirsty, let me have something sent in to you."

I cut her off, "I believe our exchange is complete. We will offer any assistance you need, Captain Cavill, in your hunt but i am unsure of how much help my family will be to you."

The Captain, who had been staring at Victoria quite obviously turned to me, hatred in his eyes. I stepped back, surprised at his expression. He recovered quickly and bowed.

"We would not want to impose on your hospitality, Sir. We will be staying at the Lion and the Lamb Inn while we are in the area. Please let us know if we can be any assistance." He walked to the door, bowing again slightly, his eyes connecting with Victoria's once more. "Good day to you both."

I let out a slow breath when he and his men had mounted and were on their way down the drive. The idea of having them in my house when only the night before I had ridden out was nerve wracking. I would have to be more careful in the future, knowing there was a higher risk at hand. But I couldn't stop for then my only reason to spend time with Bella would be moot. I couldn't give that up yet.

The idea of those soldiers stationed in her home sent a chill through my bones. I could only imagine the attentions they would show her and I prayed that her father would keep her safe.

The sound of a tiny foot stomping and an angry sigh caused me to turn.

"You needn't be rude to them, Edward. They are here to protect innocent people from dangerous and violent criminals." She pouted sullenly, still gazing at the door the men had just exited by. I looked at her closely, seeing the composed facade others might deem intriguing, even beautiful. but all I saw was a spoiled woman, used to manipulating my father for too long into getting whatever it was she wanted.

"I offered them any help we might provide, Victoria. I believe I have done all I can." I left her there in the entry, silently fuming and went back to the library alone.

---

The day of the fair the sun shone bright, casting nearly a glow on the town. And with all the people bustling through, animals in pens, and stands full of merchants hawking their wares it made for a boisterous crowd. I had agreed to accompany Miss Hale to my father's delight. His happiness was so rare these days that it was near impossible for me to argue with him. The market stalls were open all day and then later the scene would become more riotous, with games and drinking loosening the inhibitions of all who participated.

After whiling the morning away under the guise of giving Miss Hale time to enjoy her breakfast and ready herself, i finally found i couldn't stall any longer. When I arrived at her home, i was greeted most obsequiously with her mother fairly fawning over me. While her father was less obvious in his manner, it was still enough that he asked me to join him in his library for refreshments before his daughter and i left the house. It seemed unfair, I wasn't really interested in marrying her, and at this point I was sure I still had some say in the matter. But I would enjoy the day. Perhaps find a trinket for Esme, something for father as well. He needed something to take his mind off of his pains.

Once the greetings were completed, we left heading for the town center. As we walked past the inn, I schooled myself against looking in the open doorway. I couldn't think of her today, not when I had another woman on my arm. The inn doorway was dark, but the movement inside suggested a full room. I caught sight of a red coat and peered in more closely.

The soldiers that had two days past stood in my entry were all grouped around a table, carousing and making a ruckus. I saw a woman standing at their table, and flinched before realizing it was Esme. She caught my eye and smiled before going back to her work. I wondered where she was, if not at the inn. Perhaps she was out enjoying the day. I turned to my companion, smiling.

"Have you attended one of these fairs before, Miss Hale?"

"No, Father has never allowed us out in the crowds." She grimaced a little. "I see now why he had always advised against it. I have never seen so many people in such a small area."

I watched as she pulled her skirts in away from a group of children that ran by, dust clouding around them. As if she might catch something from them, poverty perhaps.

"Yes, the crowds can be dangerous." I answered wryly.

We spent a few hours wandering the streets, looking in booths and trying some of the foods offered. I was standing near a booth the blacksmith's apprentice had opened when I saw her. She was on the arm of some oafish man, as he half dragged her to the booth full of finely crafted silver jewelry. She was laughing at his exuberance, no doubt finding it charming. I found it to be quite boorish, that he couldn't wait for her and allow her to walk at her own pace.

Once he had stopped and let her catch up to him, he reached out for her wrist, holding it close to him and wrapping something around it. She pulled her arm back, looking at the bracelet now hanging from her wrist. It was quite large and hung off her diminutive wrist obscenely.

I laughed bitterly, jealousy pounding through my veins that this man, this unkempt lout was allowed to treat her this way and give her gifts, marking her as his own.

Oh how I wished that moment that it was night already and I could steal her away from all this chaos.

Her eyes as she looked at me were wide and innocent, her mouth parted, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as my cold words had sunk in. Miss Hale was speaking with the blacksmith's apprentice, Mr. McCarty, and was startled when I touched her elbow, indicating I wanted to leave.

She was a little surprised at my abruptness, but I had to get away from the situation. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself if forced to stay in their happy presence any longer. We quickly made our way back to her home and I left before her father could draw me into another conversation about his investments or the latest news out of Parliament. It wasn't fair to give them a false impression of my intentions, so I cut the goodbyes short.

I debated riding back to the fair, finding her and following her, watching to ensure that she was safe with that man. He was the same man I had seen her with at my brother's funeral and the image of them together left me cold and angry. I decided right then that I would go back to the fair that night, and find her. I wasn't sure how I would be able to lure her to me, but it would happen all the same.

---

The hours til dark had dragged inexorably, leaving me drained and anxious to get back to town, to her.

I rode fast, aiming for the wood that edged the town. I could leave my horse and make may way to the festivities in darkness almost the whole way. I had my mask in my pocket, so that when I was close I could disguise myself. No need to draw attention until I had her in my sights though. As I walked the trees, the lights of the fair twinkled charmingly. There were less people than had been out today, but still quite a crowd mostly centered around what appeared to be the booths for drink and some sort of game of strength. The grunts and groans of contestants could be heard echoing throughout the night. Other groans could be heard as well, from the huddled forms of couples groping in the dark or like one adventurous couple leaning up against a tree. I turned away from these images, the intimacy of the dark affording a sort of false privacy.

From the edge of the clearing, I could see the group gathered around the games booth. The man Bella had been with earlier was there, as was McCarthy and they were preparing to do some sort of weight lifting challenge. I could hear McCarty taunting the younger man, who appeared to be quite drunk already, his body swaying slightly as he responded. I couldn't see her in the crowd and i wondered if she had gone home when a movement at the outer edge of the crowd caught my eye.

She was standing away from the men, looking so vulnerable my breath hitched. I watched, silent and still as she walked closer to me, looking for a seat far from the commotion. When she turned, sweeping her skirts aside to lower to a bench in the clearing her eyes swept across the treeline and met mine. I heard her gasp and saw her raise her hand to her throat, her cheeks flaring in a deep blush.

I reached out a hand to her, beckoning her to me. She hesitated, looking back at the men now in the midst of their contest. No one was watching her and she looked down for a moment before moving towards my place in the dark.

I let out a deep breath I hadn't realized I was holding when she took her first steps, crossing the distance between us carefully. Time seemed to slow, the darkness blotting out anything but the two of us.

When she reached me, she couldn't bring herself to meet my eyes. I did not want to stay here, we could be noticed too easily so I grasped her small hand in mine, pulling her with me farther into the wood.

Her quiet presence was very calming and I drank her in, not just her beauty but her whole being.

We walked together over fallen trees and brush, moving farther and farther away the town. When we had gone what I deemed to be a safe distance, I stopped and turned to her. She still hadn't looked up at me and while I should be happy she wasn't looking to closely at my face, I couldn't help but desire it. I wanted her to know me, as impossible as that was.

My eyes darted down to her wrist, to the bracelet she still wore. It was a simple piece with one charm hanging from it, in the shape of a dog. What sort of gift is this? He should be showering her with finery and jewels and he is giving her charms of animals? Fool. I knew then that I would find her something, I would give her a trinket from me, I would have her wear something marking her as mine. Whether anyone else knew, I could not care less. I wanted her to know. In some small way, she was mine and mine alone.

She played with the trinket, before shyly looking up at me. Whatever she saw in my eyes must have frightened her, because she pulled away a little stumbling backwards over a fallen branch. I grabbed her arm, keeping her upright. My hand rested on her wrist, my fingers caught in her bracelet.

"Is this from your young man?" My words were more pained than I would have liked.

She shook her head frowning, "He's not my young man. He is only a family friend."

I raised an eyebrow, surely she could tell he was infatuated with her? Was she so unaware of her own beauty?

"Is he aware of that fact?"

Her brow furrowed and she frowned again. "I have never encouraged him," she replied resolutely.

Relief flooded through me, though it mattered not. I slipped the too large piece off of her wrist, putting in the pocket of her skirt.

"You might lose it if you were to wear it, it has not been sized for your tiny wrist."

She blushed again as my fingers caressed her delicate hand, her skin soft and warm. Her fingers twitched in my grasp, before reaching up towards my face. She touched my cheek lightly, grazing over my stubbled cheek and lingering on my jaw.

My mouth opened instinctively and her fingers moved to trace my lips. This girl would be demise. My lungs gulped air as if i were drowning. And I was.

I held her hand still, kissing each of her fingers before bending to take her lips in a searing kiss.

I breathed her in as our mouths met and slid over each other in a fight for more contact. The cool night air surrounded us, but all I could sense was her, her warmth, her fragrance.

Breaking away, I softly kissed her eyelids.

"Keep your eyes closed, my sweet."

I removed my mask, folding the fabric over so there was no opening and tied it around her head.

"I can't have you seeing my face, lovely. Let me touch you and you touch me, no sight needed."

She made a quiet sound of displeasure, her lips pouting beautifully. I covered them with my own, more demanding this time and let my hands begin a slow traverse down her sides. When I pulled her hips roughly to mine, she faltered and I picked her up moving us to stand against a tree, our position similar to the couple I had seen earlier yet so different still. Her hands tentatively moved up my arms, skipping from my shoulders to my face where she smoothed every plane and edge carefully as she might break me, ghosting over my cheekbones, my nose, my forehead. Her fingertips dug into my hair, fingers scratching at my scalp and I groaned into her mouth. I felt hot all over, the tension growing exponentially. Every move she made, every hitch in her breath echoed through me. The urge to be inside her was overwhelming but I had to fight it. She deserved more than that.

Her sweet sounds were ringing in my ears as I moved to kiss her chin, her throat, her collarbones bare above her gown.

When my lips touched the softness of her bosom, she cried out.

"Let me see you, darling."

Her head was nodding, thrown back in pleasure.

I loosed the ties of her bodice and stays, leaving only her thin undergarment covering her breasts and her skin pebbled in the chill. The sight and feel of her soft, warm skin on my lips was heaven and I dragged my lips lower, capturing one puckered nipple. She jerked, moaning low in her throat and I continued my assault, teasing her with my tongue and teeth. She squirmed in my arms sighing when my fingers moved to her skirts. I started to pull them up, but they were too bulky.

Dropping to my knees I wrapped my hands around her ankles. The heat under her skirts was welcoming, and I rubbed her legs slowly as my hands made their way up. Once they reached their destination where the warm, moist heat was beckoning them I brushed over her mound with the backs of my fingers, steadying myself for a moment. I slid one lone finger into her slick cleft and she cried out, her hips pushing forward so that my face was pressed against her skirts. My hands moved to the hem, and pushed it up baring her legs to me, the long pale lines of them drawing my eyes upward.

Her skin was softest on her inner thighs, and I rubbed my cheek there inhaling her scent deeply. I felt the trembling of her body through my fingertips as they crept towards her hip bones while my thumbs pulled on her, opening her for me. When my tongue made contact she let out a low moan that shot through me like sparks, and her knees buckled again. I moved one of her legs to my shoulder, biting at the softness before going back to my original fascination. I listened to her cries and moans as I licked at her soft pink flesh, speeding up or slowing down depending on the sounds she made. I became completely enthralled in her, my thoughts on her and her alone as if bringing her pleasure was my one goal in life. I insinuated one finger inside of her and another and she responded by rocking her hips more forcefully. As her keening grew in volume and her body began to grasp at my fingers, I worked harder to bring her to her peak, worrying the little nub of sensitive flesh with my teeth and tongue until she lost control.

Her climax shook her body and when she had ridden out the tremors I started to pull back causing her to collapse on me. She let out a weak cry as her body, limp now with satisfaction, lay on mine lightly, her breasts against the linen of my shirt and the warm wetness between her thighs seemed to envelope me. I arched and holding onto her waist shifted her over my cock, letting her settle down on me. The urge to thrust was impossible to fight and my hips rocked upwards. I groaned, closing my eyes in an attempt to regain composure.

"Oh. Am I too heavy? I am hurting you, I am sure of it." She looked in my direction, her vision still blocked by the mask.

I laughed, "No, love. You aren't hurting me."

The sight of her, hair tumbling around her shoulders, her clothing in dishabille and her mouth red and swollen from my kisses was an image I wanted to keep, despite being marred by presence of the mask. The fact that she couldn't look down at me and see my face even in this dim light was not one i was proud of. I moved to save her from this desperate situation, from me but she had leaned down towards my face, her lips puckered for a kiss and I was lost again.

As she leaned forward, the pressure of her heat had shifted and I clenched my hands on her hips pushing them back and forth all along my hardness. I felt her fingers pluck at my shirt, clumsy but persistent and she sighed as her hands spread over my chest when my shirt had finally been opened. I had never before worried about any of my previous lovers opinions of my body, but I found myself suddenly shy, wondering what she would think of me.

Any worries I had dissipated when she began rocking against me harder causing an almost painfully delicious pleasure, her sweet mouth still on mine, her mewling noises filling my ears. She was all I could see, smell, feel, taste. She was all I wanted.

The overwhelming reality of her filled my senses and the tension broke, my body tensing up as the crash of release rang through me. I was incapacitated, removed from my body, dropped into a deep abyss. Her cries of pleasure barely reaching me as I floated on a wave of well being and peace. I slowly returned to her, cradling her against my chest and murmuring small words of love in her hair as she yawned. I could hardly imagine what actually making love to her would be like if this play we made was so amazing.

"Rest, love, a moment. I will wake you soon." I crooned in her ear as I combed my fingers through her tangled hair.

She nodded sleepily, and wrapped her arms tightly around me before falling into a light slumber. The peace I felt continued as we lay there under the trees. I thought it would fade as it does when I have found release but it persisted. This girl was affecting me in a way I never imagined.

I thought she had woken when I heard her mumbling, the words an unintelligible jumble. Except for one word, or name as it were. Jake. She repeated it several times and each time was a sting to my pride.

"No, Jake. Not you." When her words became clearer and she emphatically stated her rejection I smiled. My rival for her feelings wasn't as formidable as I had thought. Or at least she wasn't as receptive to him as she was to me.

I couldn't stop the smirk that no doubt spread across my face or the happiness that filled my head.

I barely noticed when her head lifted from my chest, her hand going to the mask tied over her eyes.

"No, dearest. Let me stand you up before you take that off." I pulled her up off the ground with me, situating us both and righting our clothes before turning back to her.

"Now, close your eyes love. Let me take this off of you."

She obeyed and her eyes stayed shut as I untied the mask, putting it back on my own head. She had stayed, head down and her eyes closed and I marveled at her trust in me, her calm acceptance. I hoped to someday deserve it.

**

* * *

**

AC: Well, someone had a ticket for the Highwayman Ride!

AN: I think Bella had a VIP pass or something...not fair.

**AC: Maybe Alice used some voodoo to get one for her.**

AN: No, Edward was playing favorites...among other things!

**AC: And now James is on the scene, to save the day or so he thinks...**

AN: Sigh...we decided on Henry Cavill as our James...we have a big thing for Henry...

**AC: You mean, he has a big thing...oh wait, that's not what you were referring to.**

AN: Not this time I wasn't.

**AC: Well, we are working on the next chapter already, so we promise to not make you wait as long for the next one!**

AN: With Henry and Rob as inspiration we should be ready to bang this thing out.

**AC: Or just to bang...oh, ok. I'll stop. I am ridiculous. I know this. ;)**


	8. Chapter 7

**Ok, folks! We're back and it hasn't been a year yet! Ha ha! We don't think hell has frozen over but we wouldn't be able to tell since it's so hot where we live! **

**We are trying something a little different for the next two updates. We will post Bella and Edward's povs separately since Bella's is done and I need to edit Edward a little...he got a little chatty for me and I need to make sure he doesn't sound funny! Tell us what you think, hate it, love it, don't care. It will speed posting up a little as we sometimes finish ahead of one another and that way we can just go ahead and post instead of waiting. **

**A side note to add...I want to thank Hopeful wager for mentioning The Highwayman in her excellent article on Period Fics...it posted today on **http://secret-twilight-garden[dot]blogspot[dot]com/

Also, nominations are still going on for the Indies...lots of good stories out there, just waiting to be discovered!

* * *

A little refresher from last chapter...

-Bella and Jake went to the Fair, where they ran into a snide Edward in a booth where Jake had just given Bella a bracelet.

-Edward snatched Bella from the fair later that night and then snuck off into the woods to have sexy time fun.

-James Cavill (hee hee!) showed up with a company of soldiers to look for the Highwayman...gasp!

-We heard about some upcoming nuptials...Charlie and Esme of course.

* * *

**Bella**

It took me a minute to realize where I was and know what had happened had not been a dream. But I had no time to think about it while I worked to straighten my skirts and reemerge into the crowded streets to find Jacob before he came looking for me.

As my highwayman helped me through the brush he murmured about my escort not being attentive, I turned to him at the edge of the trees and, in a bold move, lifted up and kissed his jaw.

"Do not be too upset with Jacob, had he been more watchful we could not have stolen this time away." I smiled up at him.

Now with less of a scowl he lowered his face to mine with a soft kiss, "Mmm, I suppose, but I would rather know you were safe when I cannot be here to watch over you."

We were close to the crowds now and he was becoming nervous. "Now, go back out there and tell that fool that you want to return home; do not linger so that I will not have to worry." He ran one fingertip along my jaw, his eyes following the motion. "I look forward to our next meeting, beautiful Bella."

And then he was gone.

I was concerned that Jacob may not want to leave his games, but he seemed to be frustrated when I found him and more than willing to be dragged away.

He was quiet on the short walk to the inn for which I was grateful; glad not to spoil my extraordinary evening with any drunken declarations of love or marriage proposals.

I was also able to avoid any awkward 'good night' when I saw how busy the inn was. Jake offered to walk me around to the kitchen but I did not see any reason. "No need," I assured him, "there is plenty of light and I cannot possibly run into trouble going around the corner. Thank you for a lovely day…and the bracelet. I will see you at the wedding. I hope your father will be able to attend as well."

"Yes, he is planning on being there; he would not miss this happy day. His strength is returning, he is looking forward to more joyous events in the near future and has worked to help me take care of him as of late." Jacob beamed as he spoke of his father and his improving health.

Mr. Black was a close friend and I could not help but be pleased to hear the news. "Wonderful. My father will be elated. He has missed his old friend…and their outings to fish. Tell him we send our well wishes and love. Thank you again for today."

As I turned toward home, hoping that the evening would soon be over because I was more tired than I had originally thought, Jake grabbed my wrist lightly to stop me. "Bella, after the wedding, we need to talk. There are many things I would like to tell you."

I smiled politely at him. "Sure Jacob, we will spend some time…talking…after the wedding. Now, I must go in to help out with the crowd. I am sure that Esme needs a moment to sit since I have left them the entire day. Good Night."

He left then and I breathed deep, trying to push the conversation that Jake would want to have to the back of my mind and bring back the beautiful thoughts of my highwayman.

I did not know what came over me when I was near him, but everything about him drew me. It had been difficult tonight not to try and see him without his mask, to discover his identity. I wondered if I would know him, if he was someone that I would see every day, or if he was just a stranger. But I also knew that he was safer if no one knew who he was including me, no matter how much I wanted to know him.

I could feel the smile on my face again as I made my way around to the back door. Just thinking of him was enough to make my heart beat faster and my breath become short. I could feel the blush on my cheeks I reflected on the way he made me feel; how gentle he was, the passion that I never thought I would understand, the feel of his body under my hands, or the pleasure his mouth and touch brought me.

Lost in my head as I was, the sudden crack and soft cry that echoed through the air startled me. I stopped in my tracks and listened intently. After a moment I heard it again, it seemed to be coming from the small stable we had for visitors. If I were not so close I probably would not have heard the noise.

Making my way to the door, I noticed that there was a small flickering light coming from inside, the light from the inn falling short of reaching the building. Quietly, I peaked into the small space, unsure of what I expected to find, but what I saw was jarring.

I knew the first was a man, his breeches fallen to his ankles and beneath him, a woman, her obviously fine skirts rucked up around her waist. The part I did not understand was their position. He was behind her, his strong body curved around hers, his hips thrusting against her.

The act was more like what I had seen in mating animals – whether the livestock I had been around or the pack when they came upon a bitch – than what I had learned recently of the relations between a man and woman. The sounds that were coming from the couple were much more animal-like as well.

Seemingly unable to resist the lure of such prying, I stood there, unmoving, taking in the other details of the couple. She was holding the edge of one stall door; I could see her long hair, unconstrained, hanging around her, and the ties in the front of her dress dangling as she was rhythmically jolted forward.

One arm was wrapped around her stomach, holding her up as he moved against her in a hurried pace – grunting and panting as he moved. The other hand seemed to be playing at her bosom as his face was buried in her neck, her head thrown to the side to allow him easier movement. He was being very aggressive and seemed to be biting her more than kissing as he pounded himself against her harder, the movements so unlike the gentle ones that my highwayman lavished me with.

"You can do better than that," the man told her as he grunted and drove his body into hers, "I want to hear you." Her only response was more moans and the broken sound of a name in between breaths; I couldn't make it out.

"Not good enough, love."

And as he finished his admonishment, suddenly the hand not holding her waist pulled back and I saw the shadow of his hand raise up menacingly. The loud clap of something being whipped against skin rang out as she yelped and whimpered, almost releasing her grip on the door. I saw that he had just struck her with a riding crop; the sound was of leather on skin.

Startled by the sounds I jumped back with a gasp, covering my mouth quickly to stifle the sound. His movements slowed slightly and I stepped back away from the door, hoping that the darkness would shelter me from his gaze. As he surveyed the stable, his eyes stopping briefly where I had just stood. He seemed content that he was not being observed and proceded. It was then I realized that I knew who the man was; it was the Captain Cavill of the Royal Army, the one that was so forward and unpleasant.

Knowing that I did not want to be caught by him, I made to get away and into the inn but not before I heard him address the woman in a low breathless voice, "Tell me, _Lady Cullen_," he paused as if catching his breath his hips still pushing into her at an alarming speed, "do you want that I hit you again? Victoria, do you like the way that feels?"

His voice was almost sadistic but it did not deter the Lady in answering with a moan and a heaving 'yes'.

_Lady Cullen?_

I stilled, waiting for enough sound to cover up my retreat when I heard a low keening and then a heavy grunt of satisfaction from the room and I took my chance, running to the kitchen door and securing it behind me.

--

The night was long. I was consumed with thoughts of my highwayman and fleeting moments of sadness for the Viscount Cullen's family.

So much grief surrounded them – especially, it seemed the remaining son – the death of a brother, his father's illness, Esme's dismissal, and now his step mother is having an affair. Though the affair did not surprise me, Esme had told me of how horrible the Lady was and this seemed to be just another show of her vileness. There were also rumors of the family's wealth being depleted, though it was only gossip for the bored townspeople.

I silently helped Esme ready the morning meal, glad that she did not ask me of my evening. I contemplated telling her what I saw; the thought that perhaps that would give her a reason to go to the Viscount, but reason told me that it would make no difference and Esme would be the first to tell me so.

He was of riches and title and she was but a servant; there was no future for she and her love. I could only be happy that I knew my father would take care of her as she deserved to be cared for.

She would be pleased to know I was taking her words to heart, at least I would be considerate of her in this way.

Making my way in to begin serving, I paused at the door. It seemed the entire regiment was in for breakfast this morning. I did not think that I had anything to worry of, I did not see the Captain again the evening before and he surely did not know what I had seen.

As if hearing my thoughts a large hand pulled me around by my shoulder. I came face to face with Captain Cavill.

His eyes told me he was angry and his smile was frightening. He leaned slowly into me as if he were going to whisper in my ear his cold stare not leaving me until our faces were almost touching. "Did you enjoy the show, little serving girl?"

I stumble back, his words unexpected, but he did not let me go. "Perhaps you would like to accompany me to the stable. We can see how innocent the little inn keeper's daughter really is." I was trembling as I shook my head. He chuckled darkly, "Well then, it would be in your interest to keep your mouth shut about what you saw, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you." His voice held every threat that the words did not.

He pulled back a bit, but only enough to leer at me once again. "Hmm, though I wouldn't mind if you would reconsider my offer, I am sure that I could teach you a thing or two." He reached to my face with his other hand, his knuckles gliding softly against my cheek, "Maybe make it easier for your future husband. I have seen the sheep farmer eyeing you, he might prefer you were a little more obedient before he adds you to his flock."

I hoped that the hate I felt was showing in my eyes as I stared at him, holding back the angry tears, my body still trembling. Just as I thought that I could not bear another moment of him touching me I heard someone clear their throat behind us.

"Sir, with all due respect, we could use my _daughter_ to help serve your men so you can get to your business for the day." My father emphasized that I was his daughter as if it would some how elicit respect from the Captain. I would have scoffed if I had not been so relieved that he was here to take me away from the horrid man.

Captain Cavill looked over my head at my father, a pleasant mask in place, "Of course sir, I was just conveying my gratitude to your beautiful daughter for the Inn's hospitality while we are here on this unpleasant business. You have been nothing but gracious and I do not believe we have had a chance to tell you so. But please, I will let her get back to her work and thank you again."

I was stunned, my mouth fell opened as he smoothly explained away any wrong doing on his part without so much as a stutter. I shuddered at the thought of how very foul this man might be.

My father muttered a quiet 'our pleasure' and addressed me, "Come now Bella, let's allow the Captain get to his men. We need to be sure they get their meal before it cools." Resisting the urge to run I looked back at the man in front of me, now looking down at me with a smirk, I turned on my heel and walked away quickly.

--

I stood behind Esme, helping her to arrange her long hair into its twist. I had watched her move around the small room all morning, gathering her things, waiting to see any unhappiness that might creep into her expression, but it was much the opposite. She seemed very content, happy even at times.

I was happy for her and my father as well. In my head, leaving behind all hopes of the love of your life would lead to much more morose feelings on a day like this. But, it seemed, Esme lived by her conviction that being secure was important, more so than love sometimes.

Life would be easier if I could do the same.

My struggle must have been showing because Esme looked at me and smiled.

"Come now, Bella, today is a merry day, we will truly be family very soon. I could not have asked for a better daughter, or a husband who will care for me like Charlie will. There is no sadness today." And she meant it.

I smiled then, understanding that my father may not be her true love, but she loved him – and me – none the less. She meant to be complete, and this marriage was her way to it and I loved her more for it. My father and my great friend would be happy, together, I could not ask for more for those I loved.

--

We made it to the church just on time. I took my place at the front with my father. When Esme made her entrance I was not sure I had ever seen someone as elated as my father was, watching his new wife walk to him. The smile never left his face as they said their vows, Esme's expression never faltering, though not nearly the brilliance of Charlie's, ever pleasant, giving no indication of doubting that she was where she wanted to be.

As I watched the ceremony I thought of my own impending marriage, for as much as I was to fight it I had no doubt that it would happen, whether with Jacob or another.

My heart yearned for my highwayman, though a marriage was impractical for someone in his position, to society, a thief, but I still wanted him, even if it were not for marriage, just to be with him would be enough for me. I knew that it had to be.

I looked around at the small crowd of friends and townspeople that had gathered to celebrate with us and wondered again if my highwayman was among them. I had no reason to suspect so, though I did feel something heavy in the air of the small church, but easily dismissed it to the number of people in attendance.

Jacob was suddenly by my side a huge smile on his face. Looking around, I realized that the ceremony was over and everyone was making their way to the Lion & the Lamb, my daydream leading me to miss the end of the service.

Offering me his arm without a word, Jacob and I walked towards the others in silence, my thoughts on my highwayman – his, no doubt on the promised conversation.

"Bella, would you like to say hello to my father?"

Glad that he could be with us, I smiled up at Jake. "Of course, I have not seen him in ages. He is doing well, I hope?"

With a loud snort, Jacob was shaking his head. "Oh, very much so! All he has spoke about for days was getting Charlie out to fish. I am sure he is badgering him about it as we speak."

I laughed with him, knowing Charlie would be more than happy to oblige. He had missed his old friend.

Searching the crowd as we walked out I spotted Esme first, she was talking with Edward, very seriously it seemed. I was glad to see he came, I knew the Cullen's were important to her and I only hoped he came bearing well wishes for her in her new life.

As my father made his way among the crowd, slowly reaching his new wife he looked over at me with a smile and a small nod. I knew this gesture meant that he wished that I join him.

"Jake, I must go see what Charlie and Esme might need. I will find you later so I can say hello to your father."

He smiled and made me promise to find him. I only hoped I could avoid the talk that Jake wanted today.

**

* * *

**

AC: ........

AN: Is that drool on your keyboard?

**AC: What? No. Well, maybe. Man, to be Victoria...**

AN: I know. You don't often think that, do you?

**AC: I will now. All the time.  
**  
AN: Or to be Bella watching it and getting to make it with Edward. Now there's an idea.

**AC: My jealousy of fictional characters knows no bounds lately.  
**  
AN: Well, it will be interesting to see what Edward is doing while Bella is getting her voyeur on!

**AC: True...and it shouldn't be too long before we hear from him!**

AN: Let us know what you think of James and his "pony" Victoria!

**AC: ............**

AN: Stop drooling. You are going to short out your laptop.


End file.
